CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 


Collection  de 

microfiches 

(monographies) 


H 


Canadian  Institiit*  for  Historical  iMicroraproductiont  /  Inttitut  Canadian  da  microraproduction*  hiatoriquaa 


1995 


I 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  bibliographiques 


I 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographically  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


D 

D 

D 

D 
D 
D 

D 

D 

n 
n 

D 


D 


Coloured  covers  / 
Couverture  de  couleur 

Covers  damaged  / 
Couverture  endommagee 

Covers  restored  and^or  laminated  / 
Couverture  restaur^'  et/ou  pelliculee 

Cover  title  missing  /  Le  titre  de  ccjverture  manque 

Coloured  maps  /  Cartes  geographiques  en  couleur 

Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)  / 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations  / 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material  / 
Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 

Only  edition  available  / 
Seule  edition  disponible 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin  /  La  reliure  serree  peut 
causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  distorsion  le  long  de 
la  marge  int^rieure. 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restorations  may  appear 
within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omitted  from  filming  /  II  se  peut  que  certaines 
pages  blanches  ajoutees  lors  d'une  restauration 
apparaissent  dans  le  texte,  mats,  lorsque  cela  ^tait 
possible,  ces  pages  n'ont  pas  ete  filmees. 


Additional  comments  / 
Commentaires  supf^ementaires: 


L'Institut  a  microfilme  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
ete  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exem- 
plaire  qui  sont  peut-^tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  meth- 
ode  noimale  de  filmage  sont  Indiques  ci-dessous. 


D 
D 
D 


Coloured  pages  /  Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged  /  Pages  endommagees 

Pages  restored  and/or  laminated  / 
Pages  restaur^s  et/ou  pelliculees 

r^    Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed  / 
— '      Pages  decolorees,  tachetees  ou  piquees 

I     I      Pages  detached  /  Pages  d^techees 

r^     Showthrough  /  Transparence 

rTI      Quality  of  print  varies  / 

' — I      Qualite  inegale  de  I'lmpression 

I     I      Includes  supplementary  material  / 

Comprend  du  materiel  supplementaire 

I  I  Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
— '  slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totalement  ou  partiellement  obscurcies  par  un 
feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure,  etc.,  unt  6te  filmees 
a  nouveau  de  fajon  ^  obtenir  la  meilleure 
image  possible. 

I  I  Opposing  pages  with  varying  colouration  or 
— '  discolouratlons  are  filmed  twice  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  variables  ou  des  decol- 
orations sont  filmees  deux  fois  afin  d'obtenir  la 
meilleur  image  possible. 


This  ittffl  is  f  ilm«d  at  the  rtduction  ratio  chacktd  iMtow/ 

Ce  documant  est  filmi  au  taux  de  reduction  indique  ci-dessous. 


lOX 

14X 

18X 

22X 

2tX 

XX 

I 

Th*  copy  filmed  har*  hai  baan  raproduead  thanlia 
to  tha  ganaroaity  of: 

National  Library  of  Canada 


L'aiiainplaira  iUmt  tut  raproduit  grlea  t  la 
gtntroaiU  da: 

Bibliotheque  nationale  du  Canada 


Tha  imagat  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  baat  quality 
poiiibla  Goniidaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  conwact  apacif icationa. 


Original  copiai  in  printad  papar  covara  ara  fllmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
lion,  or  tha  bacli  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  copiaa  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  impraa- 
aion,  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaaion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  frama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  conuin  tha  symbol  — *'  (moaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  Imaaning  "END"), 
whichavar  appliaa. 

Maps,  platas,  charu,  ate,  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarani  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
sntiraly  includad  in  ona  axposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  cornar,  laft  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  framas  as 
raquirad.  The  following  diagrams  illustrata  tha 
method: 


Las  images  suiventas  ont  ttt  raproduites  avsc  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tenu  ..e  la  condition  at 
da  la  nenat*  da  rexemplaira  film*,  et  en 
conformity  evec  lea  eonditiona  du  contrat  da 
fllmage. 

Lee  ejtamplalraa  originaux  doni  la  couvarture  an 
pepier  eet  imprimOa  sont  film*s  an  eommencant 
par  la  premier  plet  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darnlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  salon  la  caa.  Tous  lee  autras  axemplaires 
originaui  sont  filmts  an  commancant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  una  empreinte 
d'impreaaion  ou  d'illuairation  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernitre  paga  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  dea  symbolaa  suivants  sppareitra  sur  la 
dernitre  imege  da  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE".  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  eartea,  planches,  ubieaux,  etc..  pauvant  atra 
filmts  i  das  uux  da  reduction  diffiranis. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atra 
raproduit  en  un  aeul  clich*.  il  est  film*  t  pertir 
de  I'engle  sup*riaur  gauche,  de  gauche  *  droite. 
et  da  haut  an  bes,  en  pranant  le  nombre 
d'imeges  nOcessaire.  Lea  diagrammaa  suivants 
illustrsnt  la  mAthoda. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICtOCOfV   ftlSCHUriON   TIST  CHART 

ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No   2) 


1.0    Ifi-  1^ 

^      -  i^     III  2. 


£     /APPLIED  irvMEE 


^^^'^^^^^^^ 


e:^.^^^ 


GATHERED  WAIFLETS 


Gathered   Waiflets 


BY 


GEORGE  McALEER,  M.  D. 


Assembled  and  Publishkd 

By  Their  Author 

Worcester,   Mass. 

1913. 


CU.'VKinHT   lfll.1 

By  tiEORUK  MrALKKK.  M.  I). 

WORrEOTKK,  MAHH, 


PRESS  OF  THE 

TRANSCKIPT  PUBLISHING  CO. 

UxBRiDQE,  Mass. 

Ittl3 


TO    I[KR 

H'llo  UN  TflK  SKroN'l)   DAY  (PK  .riNK 

K    IIITKKN  itlNDKKI)  AM)  «KVKNTV-K(irii 

KXrirAN(lKI)  TIIK  NAMK 

IIKI.KN  KKANCES  KKNDAI.I, 

K()R 

MKS,  o        '.(IK  McAI.Kt.R. 


FOREWORD 


"  Now,  half  afraid 
To  scan  the  train  that  startled  memory  brings, 
Thought  backward  glances,  and  an  inward  voice 
Asks  for  the  harvest  of  my  summer  time." 

"Though  fairer  forms  around  us  throng, 
Their  smiles  to  others  all  belong. 
And  want  that  charm  which  dwells  alone 
Round  those  the  fond  heart  calls  its  own." 

In  the  subtle  economy  of  Nature  a  handful  of 
leaves  upon  a  tree  are  of  but  little  importance  or  value, 
but  when  multiplied  in  numbers  during  the  fullness  of 
Summertime  they  not  only  clothe  the  trees  in  a  garb 
of  beauty,  but  they  are  also  essential  and  indispens- 
able; the  biting  frosts  of  Autumn  soon  end  their  tran- 
sient day,  clothe  them  in  dullest  brown,  and  angry 
winds  hurl  them  unappreciated  and  unmourned  to 
earth  and  oblivion.  But  no !  —  an  artist  hand  gathers 
a  vagrant  few  of  their  number,  more  fortunate  than 
their  fellows,  and  weaves  them  into  a  beautiful  and 
enduring  garland,  each  leaf  contributing  an  added 
attraction  and  importance  not  inherent  in  itself. 

Even  so  are  the  thought  and  hope  of  their  author 
in  assembling  the  Gathered  Waiflets. 


I 


TOEQUATO    TASSO. 


An  Address  deliveeed  before  the  Lady  Fullehton  Beadiso 
Circle,  Worcester,  Mass.,  Febrdabt  6, 1894. 

IT  is  with  the  utmost  diffidence  that  I  appear  before 
the  audience  that  I  see  before  me  on  this  occasion. 
The  theme,  for  its  proper  treatment,  and  this  dis- 
tinguished assembly  deserve  the  best  efforts  of  orators 
familiar  with  the  subject  and  who  could  blend  the 
graceful  imagery  of  the  poet  and  the  felicity  of  expres- 
sion of  the  novelist.  These,  it  is  needless  for  me  to 
assure  you,  I  cannot  command.  I  might  have  noted 
down  many  things  in  the  life  of  our  poet,  and  made 
copious  extracts  from  his  masterpiece  of  Epic  grandeur 
that  wouhl  interest  and  please  you,  but  knowing  that 
the  extemporaneous  is  preferred,  even  if  inferior,  to 
the  written,  I  venture  to  adopt  tlie  former  even  at  the 
risk  of  failing  to  meet  your  expectations. 

With  poetry  in  the  abstract  we  need  not  now 
concern  ourselves,  for  I  am  going  to  assume  that  my 
hearers  have  left  behind  them,  with  their  childhood, 
the  idea  that  all  jingling  words  that  fall  pleasantly 
upon  the  ear,  no  matter  how  perfect  the  metre  and 
melodious  tlie  rythm,  is  poetry.  No,  poetry  is  some- 
thmg  above  and  beyond;  something  that  may  not  be 
measured  alone  by  metre  and  rythm.  Poetry  may  be 
likened  to  the  tempest  that  stirs  to  depths  profound, 
to  the  lightning's  flash  and  thunder's  crash,  to  the 


12 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


aurora  that  precedes  the  rising  sun,  to  the  summer 
shower,  as  if  nature  was  weeping  tears  of  joy,  to  the 
rainbow  that  beautifies  the  heavens  and  typifies  hope, 
to  the  sympathetic  friend  who  brings  balm  in  the  hoar 
of  affliction  and  sorrow,  to  the  devout  one  whose  holy 
life  is  a  continual  prayer  that  lifts  up  and  ennobles; 
and  again,  when  it  touches  the  heart  with  all  the  varied 
sentiments  from  the  heights  of  joy  to  the  depths  of 
dejection  and  sorrow  as  in  a  fond  mother's  love,  it 
seems  as  if  it  touched  our  dull  human  nature  and  lifted 
us  up  to  higher  things  as  if  by  the  band  of  Divinity 
itself.  Poetry  is  all  this  and  more,  and  yet  to  no  one 
has  it  ever  been  given  to  touch  every  chord  with  a 
master's  hand.  And  so  we  have  classification  and 
gradation. 

Shakespeare  may  be  called  the  poet  of  action; 
Shelley,  the  poet  of  liberty;  Keats,  the  poet  of  beauty; 
Scott,  the  poet  of  chivalry;  Wordsworth,  the  poet  of 
nature ;  Milton,  the  poet  of  introspection  and  involved 
description;  Byron,  the  poet  of  impassioned  and  elo- 
quent energy;  Moore,  the  poet  of  the  heart  and  senti- 
ment ;  and  so  we  might  extend  the  list.  But  to  return 
to  our  poet  Tasso.  High  upon  the  top-most  cliffs  of 
fame,  "among  the  few  immortal  names  not  bom  to 
die,"  are  deeply  chiselled  the  names  o^  the  world's 
greatest  poets,  and  few  there  are  whose  works  entitle 
them  to  higher  place  or  more  loved  remembrance  'ban 
him  whom  we  summon  here  to-night  from  out  of  the 
tomb  of  ages  —  the  determined  student,  the  gifted 
genius,  the  ohivalrco  knight,  the  brilliant  poet,  the 
reigning  court  and  nation's  favorite,  and  later  the 
poor,  infirm,  persecuted  and  abandoned  Tasso. 

Torqnato  Tasso  was  bom  in  1544  of  illustrious 


TOBQUATO    TaSSO. 


13 


and  highly  gifted  parents  in  the  higher  walks  of  life, 
and  he  died  in  early  manhood,  in  1595. 

At  the  early  age  of  eight  years  he  was  famous  for 
his  religious  fervor  and  precocity  of  intellect.  He  re- 
ceived his  early  education  from  the  renowned  teachers 
of  youth,  the  Jesuits.  He  grew  up  in  a  refined  and 
highly  learned  literary  and  critical  atmosphere.  He 
was  an  early  and  voluminous  writer  as  attested  by  his 
Einaldo  (which  was  given  to  the  world  when  he  was 
but  eighteen  years  old),  Aminta,  Torrismondo,  La 
Sette  Qiomate  del  Hondo  Creato,  Genisalemme  Con- 
quistata,  Gerusalemme  Liberata,  and  other  poems. 
From  early  life  he  was  accustomed  to  the  society  of 
scholars  and  the  inteUectually  great,  and  in  early  man- 
hood he  became  the  idol  of  the  most  brilliant  and 
exclusive  court  in  Europe. 

His  "  Jerusalem  Delivered  "was  completed  during 
his  thirtieth  year.  He  lived  a  devout  life  in  an  in- 
tensely religious  age,  when  high  ideals  and  knighUy 
chivalry  and  moral  rectitude  were  at  their  best,  and 
when  they  won  their  highest  and  most  enduring 
laurels.  Like  many  another  of  the  world's  great  intel- 
lectual giants  reverses  overtook  him  in  his  later  life, 
mental  disturbances  dimmed  his  brilliant  intellect,  and' 
for  seven  long  years  he  was  deprived  of  his  personal 
liberty. 

He  was  a  loyal  son  of  the  church,  and  h ,  Jerusalem 
Delivered"  so  abounds  in  Catholic  doctrine,  teaching 
and  practice  that  the  bigotry  and  intolerance  to  which 
the  so-called  Beformation  gave  birth  and  continued 
life— save  in  exceptional  cases  among  the  greater 
scholars  and  the  more  thoughtful,  tolerant  and  appre- 
ciative—have ever  exerted  a  withering  and  all  too  sue- 


14 


Oatbered  Waiflets 


cessful  effort  to  push  aside  and  obscure  this  wonder- 
ful work  and  to  deprive  the  world  of  its  vast  wealth 
of  intellectual,  poetical,  ethical  and  literary  treasures. 

Tasso  essayed  a  task  hitherto  not  attempted,  and 
since  his  time  not  equalled  by  any  other  writer. 
Unnumbered  authors  have  won  laurels  and  the  plaudits 
of  their  readers  by  the  skillful  management  of  a  s  igle 
hero  or  heroine  in  their  work,  and  when  Shakespeare 
succeeds  in  managing  two  characters— Othello  and 
lago — so  well  and  so  evenly  balancing  their  contribut- 
ing parts  that  scholars  and  critics  are  unable  to  decide 
which  is  the  hero  of  the  play,  the  world  bows  down 
before  this  great  achievement  of  his  mighty  genius; 
but  Tasso  essayed  and  triumphantly  completed  a 
mightier  and  vastly  more  difficult  task.  He  planned 
and  made  his  "Jerusalem  Delivered"  an  allegory  of 
human  life  and  human  action — of  man  con.posed  of 
soul  and  body,  of  the  good  and  the  base— the  crusades 
the  battlefield  of  life,  and  the  assault  and  conquest  of 
Jerusalem,  the  toils  and  triumphs  of  man  over  the 
trials,  temptations  and  vicissitudes  of  life. 

The  transcendent  genius  of  Tasso  enabled  him  to 
originate  and  give  prominent  place  in  his  great  master- 
piece to  different  characters  clearly  showing  forth  in 
their  contribution  to  the  action  of  his  great  epic — each 
in  his  or  her  own  sphere  and  way— a  special  charac- 
teristic or  trait  of  human  nature — some  distinctive 
virtue,  vice  or  passion— and  this  he  does  with  such 
consummate  ability  that  the  most  learned  scholars, 
critics  and  reviewers  in  all  lands  agree  that  all  of  his 
characters  have  equal  place  and  equal  prominence 
throughout,  that  no  character  dominates  over  another 
and  that  in  this  regard  the  "Jerusalem  Delivered"  of 


TOBQUATO    TaBSO. 


15 


Tasso  has  never  been  equalled.  He  makes  every  act 
and  deed  of  his  leading  characters  embody  and  typify 
some  prominent  attribute  of  human  nature  —  to  men- 
tion but  a  few  of  the  many  —  Godfrey,  kingly,  digni- 
fied, just  and  noble  —  highest  type  of  manhood  guided 
by  reason  and  reflection;  Argantes,  ireful,  powerful, 
bold  and  noisome  —  type  of  arrogance,  brute  strength 
and  anger  not  governed  by  reason  or  judgment ;  Bald- 
win, thoughtful  and  meditative  —  type  of  the  methodi- 
cal man  who  acts  only  after  reason  has  been  invoked 
and  approves ;  Binaldo,  fiery  and  passionate  —  type  of 
impetuous  and  unreflecting  manhood  that  acts  with- 
out weighing  consequences;  Armida,  beautiful,  allur- 
ing and  deceitful  —  type  of  perpetual  youth  and  the 
allurements,  vanities  and  frailties  of  life;  Clorinda, 
earnest,  grave,  devoted  —  type  of  womanly  women 
ever  strong  and  ready  to  pursue  where  conviction 
leads;  Sophronio,  zealous,  modest,  retiring,  steadft-.it 
—  type  of  purity  and  holy  love. 

It  has  been  claimed  as  a  high  honor  for  the  great 
Homer  that  he  was  the  father  of  the  simile,  but  be 
this  as  it  may  it  is  certain  that  no  other  poet  ever 
made  greater  use  of  tliis  figure  of  rl  oric,  nor  more 
appropriately,  gracefully  and  forcefuL.  tl.an  did  Tasso 
in  his  greatest  work  in  which  it  is  used  upwards  of  six 
hundred  times. 

It  was  long  since  proclaimed,  and  for  many 
generations  it  has  been  very  generally  conceded  by 
historians,  artists  and  scholars,  that  Dante  gave  to  the 
world  more  subjects  for  the  chisel  of  the  sculptor  and 
the  brush  of  the  artist  than  any  other  author  who  ever 
lived,  if  not  more  than  all  authors  com'  mad,  and  that 
Tasso  has  done  for  authors  equal  sen.ce  in  the  world 


16 


Oathkued  Waiflbts. 


of  books  and  literature.  Certain  it  is  that  some  of  the 
most  startling,  popular  and  successful  works  of  many 
authors,  from  his  time  to  the  present,  are  but  copies  of 
isolated  portions  of  his  greatest  poem  modernized  and 
amplified  but  not  improved. 

The  mightly  Shakespeare  —  the  generous  pilferer 
from  others,  and  whose  conduct  in  this  regard  would, 
in  this  more  plain  speaking  age  of  the  world,  accord 
him  place  with  the  rankest  of  plagiarists  —fashioned 
his  Borneo  and  Juliet  upon  Tasso's  Olindo  and 
Sophronio.  This  has  always  been  known  by  the  lead- 
ing lights  in  the  literary  world,  but  lest  it  may  be 
doubted  in  this  superficial  age  when  so  much  incense 
and  red  fire  are  burned  before  the  shrine  of  Anglo- 
Saxonism  while  industriously  striving  to  belittle  the 
great  achievements  of  other  European  nations,  I  crave 
your  permission  and  forbearance  to  parenthetically 
and  briefly  introduce  the  unquestioned  evidence  of  a 
great  luminary  in  the  world  of  letters,  the  famed  Dr. 
Johnson,  a  great  friend  and  admirer  of  England's 
greatest  poet  and  plaj-wright;  and  his  evidence  further 
proves  the  general  illiteracy  and  ignorance  of  the 
English  people  down  to  modem  times. 

"  The  English  nation,  in  the  time  of  Shakespeare, 
was  yet  struggling  to  emerge  from  barbarity.  . 
The  philology  of  Italy  had  been  translated  hither  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  the  Eighth.  .  .  .  The  pnbUc  was  gross 
and  dark;  and  to  be  able  to  read  and  write  was  an  ac- 
complishment still  valued  for  its  rarity.  .  .  .  Our 
author's  plots  are  generally  borrowed  from  novels; 
and  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  he  chose  the  most 
popular.  .  .  .  And  Fairfax's  translation  of  Tasso's 
'Jerusalem  Delivered'  was  then  in  England  upon  the 


TOBQVATO   TaSSO. 


17 


Bununit  of  popularity.  ...  He  obtained  his  ideas 
from  accidental  quotations  or  by  oral  communication, 
and  as  he  used  what  he  had,  would  have  used  more  had 
he  obtained  them.  ...  In  the  story  of  Borneo  and 
Juliet  he  is  observed  to  have  followed  the  English 
translation  where  it  deviates  from  the  Italian." 

The  foregoing  extrrcts  are  taken  from  Dr.  John- 
son's preface  to  many  of  the  editions  of  Shakespeare's 
complete  works. 

The  ear  marks  of  Tasso's  transcendent  genius  are 
also  easily  discovered  and  recognized  in  Spenser's 
highly  praised  Fairiie  Queene. 

It  is  a  long  step  from  Shakespeare's  time  to  the 
present,  but  plagiarism  and  adaptations  from  Tasso 
still  continue.  It  is  but  a  few  short  years  ago  that 
Haggard's  "She"  created  a  furore  in  the  reading 
world,  and  this  is  but  a  prose  rendering  of  Tasso's 
Armida. 

But  in  the  limited  time  at  our  disposal  I  must 
not  extend  the  list.  The  work  of  no  other  poet  so 
abounds  in  a  wealth  of  proverbial  poetical  gems  of 
thought,  and  no  poet  has  ever  been  so  generally  and 
frequently  honored  by  having  them  adopted  by  authors, 
orators,  publicists  and  others  from  the  time  of  Tasso 
to  the  present  day  to  give  more  elegant  expression, 
adornment,  appositeness,  point  and  force  to  their  ideas 
and  best  efforts,  and  the  literary  world  has  been  greatly 
enriched  thereby. 

The  "Jerusalem  Delivered"  is  not  for  the  dille- 
tanti— the  flippant  and  hasty  readers.  Close  applica- 
tion and  deep  study  must  be  bestowed  upon  a  work  so 
comprehensive  and  so  profound  before  its  scope,  its 
unity  of  purpose,  its  triumphant  fulfillment,  its  lasting 


18 


Qathirzo  Waiflxtb. 


beauty,  and  enduring  superiority  will  be  fully  revealed. 

But  I  mu8t  not  pre.  ume  upon  your  indulgence  and 
overtax  your  patience  by  Hupplying  further  biographi- 
cal data  or  by  attempting  a  general  review  of  our  poet's 
greatest  work. 

I  do  wish,  however,  to  detain  you  somewhat  with 
a  consideration  of  the  age  in  which  he  lived,  the  diffi- 
culty of  obtaining  an  education,  his  environments,  as 
well  as  the  works  which  his  transcendent  genius  left 
as  a  priceless  heritage  to  more  favored  generations. 
This  I  am  anxious  to  do  particularly  for  one  of  many 
reasons.  I  know  I  have  the  honor  of  addressing  many 
who  are  engaged  in  the  praiseworthy  occupation 
of  teaching  youth,  and  what  I  particularly  desire 
to  emphasize  is  the  consideration  of  the  attain- 
ments of  our  poet  without  what  are  now  deemed  the 
indispensable  adjuncts  of  the  schoolroom.  You  will 
recall  the  date  of  the  invention  of  printing  by  movable 
types,  and  that  books  for  use  in  the  schoolroom,  as 
we  now  have  them,  were  to  him  unknown.  I  crave 
your  indulgence  if  I  ask  right  here,  parenthetically,  if 
school  books  were  blotted  out  of  existence  to-day  and 
teaching  be  confined  to  the  oral  only  as  in  bygone 
times  what  progress  would  be  made  in  the  school- 
room t  And  with  all  the  aids  now  at  the  command  of 
teachers,  I  ask  where  are  the  rivals  or  equals  of  the 
early  scholars  T  You  need  not  be  told  that  Tasso  was 
not  the  bright,  particular  star  and  solitary  exception. 
You  know  that  the  stylus  of  St.  Augustine  had  traced 
on  parchment  and  given  to  the  world,  centuries  be- 
fore, his  Civitate  Dei,  that  the  incomparable  Summa 
Tbeologia  of  the  Angel  of  Schools  shone  athwart  the 
world  like  a  ray  of  Divine  effulgence  three  centuries 


ToiiguATo  TAiwa  19 

before  TaMo'i  birth,  th«t  time  had  buried  lixteei, 
centuriee  between  the  birth  of  bit  gifte-l  countryman. 
Virgil,  and  hii  natal  day,  and  Dante  prece<led  him 
nearly  three  centuriee.  Scholars  have  lon(f  lince 
accorded  Dante,  Petrarch,  ArioHto,  and  Ta«go  the 
proud  distinction  of  being  the  greatest  poeta  who 
ever  shetl  lustre  on  the  land  of  their  nativity,  sunny 
Italy,  since  the  dawn  of  the  Christian  era. 

Nor  a.T-1  these  the  only  giants  in  intellect  which 
illumined  1  e  early  years  and  blessed  later  generations, 
but  we  forbear  further  enumeration  lest  we  extend  the 
list  to  undue  length  and  encroach  too  much  upon  your 
time  and  patience. 

At  the  time  of  Tasso's  birth,  A.  D.  \r,r,4,  America 
was  a  veritable  terra  incognita.  It  had  but  little  place 
on  the  map  of  the  world  and  was  as  of  little  importance. 
Religious  tranquility  had  not  been  disturbed  by  the 
rebellion  of  Luther,  the  apotasy  of  Calvin,  nor  the 
wickedness  of  Henry  VIII,  and  a  careful  reading  of 
history  will  reveal  the  fact  that  Christian  nations  and 
Christian  people  cared  less  for  personal  aggrandise- 
ment, which  is  such  an  unpleasant  and  withering  char- 
acteristic of  these  later  times,  than  for  the  domination 
of  the  spiritual  as  commanded  by  the  Master. 

Pope,  hierarchy.  Christian  kings,  princes  and 
nobles  gloried  in  their  rpligion  and  hesitated  not  at 
great  personal  sacrifice  to  extend  its  blsssings  to  the 
less  favored  ones  of  earth. 

Brilliant  examples  of  those  who  obeyed  the  com- 
mand of  the  Master,  "Go  Teach,"  are  too  numerous  to  be 
enumerated  now,  and  we  must  be  content  with  naming 
as  examples, two  who  may  be  regarded  as  contem- 
porary with  Tasso,  and  who  left  the  imprint  of  their 


so 


Gatiiirrd  WAiFLrm. 


Kr»atn«M  an''  lu^hidvementit  as  a  rich  leKacy  to  all 
cnminK  f(«D«nitinna,  Ignatius  Loyola  and  8L  Francia 
Xaviitr. 

The  iipiritual  wai  not  alone  relietl  upon  to  evangel- 
ixts  the  worlr),  aud  the  nworil  wan  often  unsheathed  in 
tlie  cauHe.  Fnim  the  eleventh  to  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury the  Christian  nations  wAge<l  almost  unueasing  war 
R){ainst  Mohammed.in  and  inlidel  countries,  not  for 
iMin<|ue8t  or  gain,  liut  to  recover  Palestine  and  the 
Holy  Sepulchre  from  the  scotfer  and  unlwliever  and 
to  extend  Christianity  throughout  the  known  world. 

The  most  remarkable  of  all  these  ware  was  the 
first  Crusade,  which  was  undertaken  A.  D.  lOUti,  in 
which  year  it  is  recorded  that  not  less  than  (i,l)UU,0<)U 
souls  moved  forward  toward  Palestine. 

This  vast  concourse  was  the  outpouring  of  all 
Christian  nations,  and  was  under  the  lea'^"'ship  of 
Godfrey  de  Houillon  aided  by  brave  men  from  many 
nations. 

The  organization,  equipping,  disciplining,  man- 
oeuvering,  moving  and  maintenance  of  such  an  army,a8 
well  as  the  method  of  warfare  in  those  far  off  times,  of 
onslaught  and  repulse,  of  stratagem  and  personal 
encounter  (for  powder  and  fire-arms  were  then  not  in 
use)  form  a  most  interesting  chapter  in  military  annals, 
and  furnish  ample  scope  for  the  most  gifted  pen.  The 
history  of  this  Crusade  is  what  Tasso  tells  in  his 
'•Jerusalem  Delivered,"  wliich  is,  and  will  be  the 
marvel,  admiration  and  delight  of  scholars  to  the  end 
of  time. 

At  the  outset  permit  me  to  say  that  the  leading 
personages  and  •..'ents,  in  this  great  work,  are  histoii- 
cally  correct,  so  we  have  a  substantial  and  not  an 


To«<JlTATO   TaDHO.  11 

imiiginary  or  pcetiml  (ounilation  for  the  narmtinn. 
Hi«  leading  charactem  were  real,  living,  acting  person- 
agei  and  participants  in  the  event*  which  he  recordit. 
Not  a  uteless  plan  is  formulated,  movement  made, 
engagement  entered  into,  that  is  adventitious,  tentative, 
or  t!i»t  could  be  omitted  without  injury  and  loss.  In 
sentiment  and  poetic  expresHion  he  touches  a  respon- 
sive chord  with  a  master's  hand  that  Hnds  lodgment 
in  every  human  breast  liomance,  too,  of  the  highest 
tyne,  runs  through  his  pages  and  serves  as  a  golden 
thread  upon  which  to  string  the  jewels  of  his  thoughts. 

You  frequently  hear  the  remark,  "That  is  like  the 
play  of  Hamlet  with  Hamlet  left  out"  This,  in  a 
broadersense,  mav  be  taken  as  a  measure  of  the  inability 
of  writers  to  properly  manage  more  than  one  charac- 
ter, and  when  the  Bard  of  Avon  succeeds  with  two,  as 
in  Othello  and  lago,  his  work  is  regarded  with  wonde^ 
ment  bordering  on  amazement  Not  so  with  Tasso. 
No  one  of  his  characters  stands  pre-eminent,  subonlin- 
ating  all  the  others. 

The  kingly  Godfrey,  wise,  just  and  firm;  chivalrous 
Tancred,  flery,  brave  and  resolute ;  Rinaldo,  inconstant 
and  sentimental;  Arg-r.tes  and  Gemando,  types  of 
human  strength  and  brutal  ferocity;  Armida,  thr 
beautiful  and  deceitful ;  and  Clorinda,  of  royal  lineage 
and  daring,  are  some  of  his  leading  characters,  aad 
who  are  so  skilfully  managed  that  each  disputes  with 
the  other  the  claim  to  greater  prominence. 

To  attempt,  therefore,  a  resume  of  this  great  epic, 
however  superficial  and  inadequate,  would  take  us 
beyond  reasonable  limit  and  I  shall  not  now  unde^ 
take  it 

Knowing  well  that  romance  and  sentiment  always 


22  Gathsred  Waiplets. 

appeal  to  and  interest  an  audience  of  the  fair  aez  I 
shall  attempt  but  a  brief  summary  of  incidents  in 
which  they  have  prominence,  culling  as  it  were  but  a 
few  flowers  from  a  generous  garland.  And  this,  in  as 
far  as  may  be  in  the  time  at  our  disposal,  I  will  present 
in  the  same  habiliments  with  which  our  poet  clothed 
his  thoughts. 

Interesting  as  is  the  first  canto,  which  treats  prin- 
cipally of  the  outpouring  of  different  nations,  the 
organization  of  the  army,  and  all  the  preparations 
made  in  those  distant  times  for  the  practice  of  the  art 
of  war,  we  may  not  now  stop  to  consider.  This  vast 
army  had  not  passed  in  review  before  Godfrey  on  its 
way  to  the  land  "Where  Christ  the  pangs  of  death  and 
darkness  underwent,"  before  its  purpose  was  known  to 
the  enemy,  which  sent  spies  recruited  from  the  fair 
sex  into  their  camp  to  deceive  and  ensnare.  This  is  the 
occasion  when  our  poet  writes  the  oft  quoted  words : — 

"And  looked-for  evil  is  a  greater  ill 
Than  the  winged  mischief  when  it  comes." 

And  Aladine,  of  the  infidel  forces,  being  apprised  of 
the  intent  of  the  Crusaders,  thus  gives  utterance : — 

'I  see,"  said  he,  "in  this  perfidious  brood 
Undoubted  signs  of  new  conceived  delight; 
The  public  evil  is  their  private  good. 

"m  wreak  my  will; 
Destroy  them  all ;  a  sharp  example  make ; 
Safe  in  their  mothers'  arms  the  infants  kill. 
Their  temples  fire,  and  to  the  lowest  sill 
Bum  their  abodes. 

And  first  on  yon  scorn'd  Sepulchre  of  theirs, 
Shall  the  cowl'd  priests  be  slain,  midst  all  their  vows 
and  pray'rs. 


TOBQUAIO  Tasso.  23 

"Then  with  busy  brain 
In  every  fountain  noxious  drugs  he  throws, 
And  the  polluted  stream  with  secret  poison  flows." 

Plots,  counterplots  and  preparations  for  the  con- 
flict grow  apace.  Craft,  deceit  and  perfidy  are  given 
free  rein  by  the  enemy,  and  fair  deceivers  successfully 
ply  their  wiles  and  evil  machinations  with  many  of 
Godfrey's  trusted  leaders. 

A  heavenly  messenger  now  appears  and  urges 
Godfrey  to  proceed,  who  then  holds  a  council  of  war, 
when  he 

"Meets  all  men's  words  with  such  charms  of  speech 
That  while  he  compels  he  wins  and  pleases  each." 

In  the  answers  of  endorsement  and  approval, 
among  other  beautiful  things,  our  poet  makes  Peter 
the  Hermit  say:  — 

"  Our  government  is  even 
As  a  vague  pendulum,  which  each  one  finds 
Struck  by  as  many  hands  as  there  are  various  minds." 

And  Godfrey  concludes  by  saying: 

"The  period  has  arrived  when  we  should  rear 
Our  flag  aloft;  less  fortunate  will  flow 
The  tide  the  longer  we  delay :  things  clear 
Will  set  in  night." 

The  day  of  battle  at  length  arrives,  and  onslaught 
meets  repulse  only  to  have  the  attack  renewed  and 
see  the  vanquished  become  the  victors.  Again  and 
again  attack  and  repulse,  repulse  and  attack,  and 
not  until  the  ensanguined  earth  was  strewn  with 
mangled,  bloody  corpses  was  the  Persian  standard 
temporarily  lowered  to  the  conquering  Crusaders. 
Tancred  was  ever  in  the  centre  of  the  conflict  where 


2« 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


M  ' 


Death  reaped  bis  greatest  harvest,  and  wearied  at  the 
close  of  day,  he  retired  to  a  living  spring  to  quench 
his  thirst.    While  refreshing  himself 

"To  the  same  warbling  of  fresh  waters  drew 
Armed  but  unhelmed  and  unforeseen  a  maid ; 
She  was  a  Pagan,  and  came  thither,  too. 
To  quench  her  thirst  beneath  the  pleasant  shade." 

Helmed  and  steeled  as  was  Tanored,  he  deserted 
Mars,  and  was  immediately  enslaved  in  the  chains  of 
Love. 

But  she,  discovering  that  she  was  not  alone,  de- 
parted as  swiftly  as  she  came,  leaving  the  impress  of 
her  bifrli  and  warlike  mien  indelibly  impressed  upon  his 
heart. 

The  Mohammedans  next  employed  the  wiles  of 
beauty  to  ensnare  Godfrey,  and  so  weaken  the  Chris- 
tians by  depriving  them  of  their  invincible  leader,  and 
thus  avenge  their  losses  and  defeat. 

Armida  is  commissioned  to  entrap  the  Christians : 

"Go  to  the  hostile  camp;  weep,  tremble,  sigh. 
Each  female  charm  that  lures  to  love  employ; 
Let  the  lips  aid  the  witchcraft  of  the  eye, 
Smiles  flash  through  tears  and  grief  despond  in  joy 
Now  shrink  from  notice,  now  vrith  prayers  annoy. 
In  weeping  beauty  o'er  the  wise  prevail." 

Her  beauty,  wiles  and  consummate  skill  gain  her 
admission  to  the  presence  of  Godfrey,  and  finds  him 

"In  simple  vesture  on  a  simple  seat. 
Calmly  conversing  with  his  chieftains  round; 
For  genuine  worth,  though  negligent,  is  crowned 
With  a  sufficient  ornament  arrayed 
In  its  own  excellence." 


IL 


TORQUATO   TaSBO. 


35 


Mind  less  capable  than  Tasso's  could  never  depict 
snch  studied  wiles,  invent  such  plausible  claims,  or 
urge  them  with  more  persuasive  eloquence.  She  tells 
Godfrey  that  she  was  born  and  nurtured  in  the 
faith  he  despised,  that  she  was  of  royal  lineage,  that 
her  mother  died  in  giving  her  birth,  that  her  father 
followed  her  mother  to  the  grave  five  years  later;  that, 
dying,  her  father  gave  her  in  charge  to  an  uncle  who 
planned  an  unworthy  matrimonial  alliance  for  her, 
which  was  so  repugnant  that  she  refused  it,  and  failing 
in  this,  a  trusty  servant  assured  her  that  he  had 
planned  to  rid  himself  of  her  by  poison  and  thus 
possess  •'he  crown  which  was  rightfully  hers.  She 
appeals  to  him  in  the  name  of  chivalry  to  come  to  her 
aid  and  avenge  her  wrongs,  assuring  him  that — 

"  Lovelier  is  Mercy's  smile  than  Valor's  crown." 

"Godfrey  revolved;  he  feared  some  Gentile  snare 
Couched  in  her  tears,  some  ambuscade  of  art ; 
He  knew  who  kept  not  faith  with  God,  would  dare 
Break  league  with  man." 

And  thus  he  answered : 

"  If  God's  own  quarrel  had  not  claimed  these  swords, 

Now  oath-bound  to  His  cause,  thy  hopes  might  rest 

Thereon  in  perfect  tru  ■•  , — not  pitying  words 

But  valid  actions  had  thy  wrongs  redressed ; 

But  while  His  heritage  is  thus  oppressed 

lieneath  the  harsh  rod  of  a  tyrant  king, 

How  can  we  grant,  fair  lady,  th,  request  ? 

Divided  hosts  declining  fortunes  bring. 

And  check  the  flowing  tide  of  vict'ry  in  its  spring." 

And  she,  with  Satanic  cunning,  cries  out 

"Lost!    Lost!    ()  skies!     O  stars!     What  evils  more 


S6 


Gathbhed  Waiflbts. 


Do  ye  prescribe  ?    Did  ever  one  falfll 
A  doom  ao  hamh,  bo  merciiesg  before?" 

And  deceitfully  turning  to  Godfrey, 

"Not  to  theo,  gracious  Chieftain  I  not  to  thee 
Lay  1  this  crime,  but  to  imperious  Fate ; 
Oh  that  her  active  tyranny  would  free 
My  weary  spirit  from  a  world  I  hate ! 

"Now  holy  sanotitude  and  maiden  shame 
Urge  me  to  go,  but  whither  shall  I  fly  ? 
There  is  no  refuge  for  a  blighted  name ; 
E.'vrth  holds  no  spot  beneath  the  boundless  sky 
So  secret  but  the  tyrant's  eye 
WiU  And  it,  and  transpierce  me;  b-it — I  go; 
The  Angel  of  Death  approaching  I  descry : 
Naught  now  is  left  but  to  forestall  his  blow ; 
None  but  Armida's  arm  shall  lay  An,.,  la  low." 

Withdrawing  from  Godfrey's  presence  her  abjec 
tions,  tears  and  impassioned  appeals  that  worried  him 
not,  touched  the  hearts  of  his  bravest  and  less  discreet 
warriors,  who  said  amongst  themselves : 

"Snrely  he  made  the  vexed  sea  roaring  brine 
His  nurp.ing  cradle,  and  wild  wolvas  that  rave 
On  the  chill  crags  of  some  rude  Apennine, 
Gave  his  youth  suck :     O,  cruel  as  the  grave. 
Who  could  view  charms  like  hers  and  not  consent  to 
save." 

The  spirit  of  chivalry  so  predominated,  and  so 
much  dissatisfaction  resulted  from  Godfrey's  decision, 
tliat  he  felt  compelled  to  summon  a  council,  and  said : 

"Knights,  you  have  heard  our  sentiments,  which  were 
Not  to  refuse  the  Syrian  maid's  request. 
But  our  intended  succor  to  defer 
To  a  maturer  season ;  I  recur 


ToRQrATO   Ta880, 


27 


To  the  same  oharge,— yonr  judgment  yet  is  free 

To  follow  my  proposal ;  in  tlie  stir 

Of  this  unstable  world,  how  oft  we  see 

That  'tis  true  wisdom's  part  to  change  her  own  decree. 

"Proceed  or  ataj  then  at  your  own  free  will; 

To  your  discretion  I  the  choice  conflde ; 

But  choose  not  more  than  ten ;  to  me  yon  gave 

Powers  paramount,  to  royalty  allied ; 

This  is  my  prerogative  I  cannot  waive; 

No !  for  a  powerless  Chief  is  but  a  glorious  slave." 

The  council  was  unanimous  against  (xodfrey's 
decision,  and  so  many  were  anxious  to  draw  the  sword 
in  her  defence,  that  the  fortunate  ones  had  to  be 
selected  by  lot,  who,  with  the  maid,  withdrew  with 
loud  acclaim  from  camp.  But,  so  strong  was  the  spirit 
of  chivalry,  that  the  next  roll-call  showed  many  defec- 
tions and  desertions  in  addition  from  the  camp  of 
<Todfrey  to  her  standard.  We  may  say,  in  passing, 
that  all  these  fell  prey  to  the  Mohammedans  and  were 
slaughtered  or  transported  to  distant  lands. 

This  so  crippled  the  Crusaders  that  (Jodfrey 
wisely  decided  to  make  no  further  advances  until 
.succored  by  re-enforcements.  Meanwhile  the  Moham- 
medans were  growing  restive  in  their  garrisons  in  the 
beleaguered  city,  and  made  every  effort  to  precipitate 
an  engagement,  but  Godfrey  is  unmoved  and  bides  his 
time.     He  tells  his  leaders : 

"All  equal  crimes  are  not  of  like  account. 
'Tie  for  the  great  to  givt- 
I'vofif  of  obedience  to  the  lowly. 

To  be  mild 
Power  should  I)e  based  in  fear;  when  rulers  spread 
Too  wide  their  mercy,  Liberty  runs  wild. 
And  States  decay- 


28 


Oathkred  Waiflets. 


I  i 


To  wrath's  first  pist  I  deem  it  beat  to  bend ; 

A  cause  by  Power  prejudged  'twere  fruitless  to  defend." 

Succor  is  slow  to  come,  famine  presses  sorely, 
and  dissatisfaction  and  insubordination  grow  in  God- 
frey's camp,  and  Christian  and  Saracen  alike,  can  be 
restrained  no  longer.  Clorinda  and  Argantes  make 
reconnoissance  without  the  walls  of  the  beseiged  city 
in  the  evening  when 

"  The  embers  of  the  sunset's  fires 
Along  the  clouds  burn  down." 

Seeing  the  twinkling  lights  in  the  camp  of  the 
Christians,  anil  the  towering  rolling  fort  to  be  used 
against  their  citadel,  Clorinda,  turning  to  Argantes, 
said : 

"There  will  I  go  with  torch  and  sword  and  fire 
Their  rolling  fort." 

And  Argantes  answered, 

"  \\'ith  thee,  with  thee  this  night  too  will  1  go 
And  all  thy  fortunes  share,  betide  n-e  weal  or  woa" 

Clorinda  remonstrates  lest  both  should  fall,  and 
Argantes'  loss  to  the  beseiged  be  irreparable.  But 
Argantes  persists,  and  together  they  seek  the  Soldan, 
who  gives  hia  consent  to  the  attempt.  Here  Clorinda's 
eunuch  steps  in  and  attempts  to  dissuade  her  from 
such  rash  adventure. 

The  words  of  the  te.xt — 

""Twas  then  her  eunuch  came 

Who  had  her  cradle  rocked  and  nursed  her  from  a 
child." 

Not  succeeding  in  this,  and  fearing  the  worst,  he 


ToRQUATO    TaSSO.  S9 

tells  hep  who  she  is  and  whence,— that,  she  was  bom 
in  far  away  Ethiopia,  of  Christian  parents,  in  the 
harem  over  which  he  presided,  but  unlike  them  in 
color,  she  was  white  as  snow,  which  so  terrified  her 
mother,  lest  it  would  argue  her  unchaste,  and  knowing 
her  father's  jealous  temper,  and  the  eunuch's  fidelity, 
she  parted  forever  with  her  child,  sending  it  and  the 
eunuch  to  a  far  off  clime,  and  substituting 

"A  new-born  negro's  infant  for  her  own." 

The  parting  of  mother  with  her  child  is  told  as 
only  Tasso  conld  tell,  and  other  words  would  fail  in 
the  attempt  to  do  it  justice.  In  his  flight  with  the 
child,  the  eunuch  encountered  a  tigress,  and  had  to 
seek  safety  in  a  tree,  leaving  the  child  on  the  ground. 

The  tigress  approached  and  was  fondled  by  the 
child,  and  after  nursing  it,  as  would  a  fond  mother, 
departed  leaving  the  child  unharmed. 

Re-possessing  himself  of  the  child,  he  continued 
his  flight,  until  he  knded  in  Egypt.  Being  chased 
one  day  by  robbers,  he  escaped  by  swimming  a  roar- 
ing, surging  stream.  Being  caught  in  a  vortex  and 
thrown  about,  he  emerged,  half  dazed,  only  to  realize 
that  he  had  lost  the  child  in  the  struggle.  Striking 
out  for  the  shore,  he  found  that  the  light  garments  of 
the  child  had  buoyed  it  up,  and  that  it  had  floated  out 
upon  tlie  sandy  beach  below.  Being  wearied  he 
stretched  himself  on  the  sand  beside  it  to  rest. 

"-A^n'l  slumbering  on  the  sand 
Methought  the  figure  of  a  frowning  Knight 
Came  near  and  pointing  at  my  breast  his  brand 
Imperiously  exclaimed  :     No  more  withstand 
Ihe  solemn  charge  with  which  thou  long  hast  striven 


80 


Gathered  WAirLsra 


A  mother's  precept :  Cbrtiten,  I  command, 
This  babe  the  choice  inheritance  of  heaven; 
To  my  peculiar  care  the  orphan  child  is  given, 
'Twag  I  gave  mercy  to  the  infuriate  beast, 
Life  to  the  wind  and  mildness  to  the  stream : 
And  woe  to  thou  if  thou  ray  words  dispute, 
Or  as  a  vacant  phantom  dis-esteem 
The  heavenly  form  I  am. 

But  as  false  I  judged  the  dream. 
And  true  my  faith,  I  scrupled  not  to  slight 
The  angel's  threat,  and  still  >vithheld  the  rite." 

He  tells  her  her  history  at  length  and  concludes — 

"  Last  mom  a  sleep,  the  simile  of  death, 
Ere  yet  the  stars  had  faded  from  the  sky, 
Sank  in  my  soul,  and  by  our  holy  faith 
Again  thy  Genius,  in  my  sleep  passed  by ; 
And  haughtier  was  his  look,  more  fierce  his  cry, 
Traitor,  he  said,  the  hour  to  dis-unite 
Clorinda  from  the  bonds  of  earth  draws  nigh ; 

Mine  shall  she  yet  become  in  thy  despite ; 
Be  thine  the  woe;  he  fi    ,nied  and  heavenward  took 
his  flight" 

With  tears  he  again  entreats  her  to  desist,  and 
she,  remembering  a  like  dream,  or  vii.ion,  wavered. 
But,  in  another  moment,  arousing  hersei'  to  action, 
she  joins  Argantes,  and  they  betake  '.hemselvee  to  the 
camp  of  the  Christiana  and  fire  the  roUing  fort. 
Bursting  forth,  the  flames  arouse  the  camp,  and  all 
are  in  arms  and  hot  pursuit  of  the  fleeing  ones,  who 
hasten  back  to  the  walled  i-ity,  Argantes  behind  to 
protect  the  maid.  All  reach  the  gates  at  the  same 
instant,  which  open  to  let  in  the  daring  pair,  but  in 
the  confusion  and  haste  Clorinda  is  shut  out  with  the 
enemy.     Her  self-possession  and  daring  desert  her  not, 


f 


ToHQUATO  TaSBO.  81 

and  the  now  ilipa  in  among  the  Ohristiang  and  en- 
deavors to  etoape  in  the  darkness.  Tanored,  whose 
keen  eyes  are  not  deceived,  follows  in  hot  pursuit,  and 
engages  her  in  deadly  conflict,  not  recogniaing  her  sex. 

No  other  pen  has  ever  given  to  the  world  such 
detailed  description  of  prowess,  skill  and  endurance  in 
personal  encounter. 

Finally,  after  lengthy  combat,  which  was  main- 
tained with  equal  vigor  and  prowess,  and  victory 
hovered  alternately  ever  each — 

"In  her  fair  bosom  deep  his  sword  he  drives; 
'Tis  done,  life's  purple  fountain  bathes  its  blade." 

And  thus  she  speaks : 

"Friend,  thou  hast  won :     I  pardon  thee,  and  0, 
Forgive  thou  me.     I  fear  not  for  this  clay. 
But  for  my  dark  soul,  pray  for  it,  and  bestow 
The  sacred  right  that  laves  all  sins  away. 
Not  distant,  gushing  from  the  rocks,  a  rill 
Clashed  on  his  ear;  to  this  with  eager  pace 

He  speeds — his  hollow  casque  the  waters  fill 

And  back  he  hurries  .o  the  deed  of  grace ; 
His  hands  as  aspens  tremble,  while  they  raise 

The  locked  aventayle  of  the  unknown  knight ; 

God  for  thy  mercy !  'tis  her  angel  face ! 
Aghast  and  thunderstruck,  he  loathes  the  light; 
Ah,  knowledge  best   unknown!   ah,  too  distracting 
sight" 

Mustering  all  his  power  in  such  trying  ordeal,  he 
administers  the  sacrament  of  baptism  and  hears  her 
last  words : 

"Heaven  gleams;  in  blissful  peace  behold  thy  friend 
depart!" 

The   battle  is  renewed  in  the    morning  when 


■12 


OaTURRRD    WAirLRTH. 


Arganteit,  the  furioui  and  hithortn  invincible,  charf^en 
upon  Tancred  to  avenge  the  fate  of  Clorinda,  but  the 
■word  of  the  Christian  knight  prevails,  and  Argantei 
bites  the  earth.  The  Christians  trinmpb  and  the  wall* 
of  Jerusalem  fall  before  the  conquering  cmsaders. 

Nearly  every  character  in  the  "Jerusalem  Deliv- 
ered" has  an  individuality  as  clearKsut  and  well  defined 
as  that  of  Taneretl  and  Clorinda,  the  action  and  move- 
ment of  the  epic  is  well  balanced  and  harmonious,  the 
plot  is  of  absorbing  interest,  the  whole  forming  a  work 
at  once  the  charm  and  delight  of  students  and  scholars, 
and  of  which,  one  high  in  ability  to  judge,  has  pro- 
claimed that  "Not  a  single  Canto  in  the  work,  not  a 
line  in  a  Canto,  nor  a  word  in  a  line  can  be  omitted 
without  marring  the  l>eanty  and  symmetry  of  the 
whole." 


MONEY  AND  BANKING. 


I 


AN  AODBBIW  DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE  BT.  JOU  N  's  TEMPERANCE 
AND  LITERA;.y  OUILO,  WORCESTER,  MA»».,  FRIDAY 
BVENINU,     FEBRUARY     25,     181)8. 

1FIND  myBclf  in  an  cmbarraxHing  predicament 
to-night,  and  tlie  only  explanation  I  can  ofTer  is 
the  zeal  of  your  spiritual  director  in  your  behalf 
and  my  inability  to  say  "No"  when  I  should.  As  you 
all  well  know,  I  am  no  financier  or  banker  in  the  broad 
acceptance  of  the  terms,  and  yet  I  am  to  talk  to  you 
on  money  and  banking. 

To  adequately  treat  the  subject  wliich  has  been 
assigned  to  me  requires  ability  which  I  cannot  com- 
mand, and  it  would  consume  more  time  than  is  at  our 
disposal.  However,  a  business  life  extending  over  a 
generation  of  years  has  familiarized  me  with  some  of 
the  rudiments  of  both,  which  it  may  not  be  unprofitable 
to  spend  a  few  moments  to  consider. 

In  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  our  every-day  life  we 
find  it  very  easy  to  adapt  ourselves  to  the  high  civiliza- 
tion surrounding  us,  so  prone  is  man  to  reconcile  him- 
self to  his  enviroument;  and  it  is  so  easy  to  assume 
thut  things  have  always  been  as  they  now  are  that  we 
seldom  take  the  trouble  to  go  back  and  investigate  their 
beginnings. 

The  genesis  >f  money  and  banking  is  as  impor- 
tant and  interesting,  and  their  origin,  growth  and 
development  are  as  tnu/  an  evolution,  as  any  other 


84 


OaTIIERXD  VVMFLETg. 


science.  In  primitive  timei  manv '.' ttures  and  com- 
merce, ns  we  now  know  them,  were  unlcnown.  Produc- 
tion was  limited  to  supplying  tlie  very  scanty  individual 
wants  of  those  far-off  times,  and  too  often  these  were 
obtained  by  the  robber  band  of  might  from  the  less 
combative  and  peaceful  producer.  Man's  wants  grew 
and  became  more  imperative  with  the  growth  of  civili- 
zation and  the  ascendaii'^y  of  principles  over  might, 
when  it  was  learned  that  these  varied  wants  could  be 
best  supplied  by  the  sub-division  and  specialization 
of  labor,  the  greatest  step  ever  taken  apart  from 
Christianity  in  the  work  of  upbuilding  and  elevating 
humanity. 

It  required  no  great  profundity  for  the  farmer  to 
perceive  that  it  was  more  advantageous  for  him  to 
devote  all  his  ability  and  energy  to  tilling  the  soil  and 
caring  for  bis  sheep  and  cattle  than  to  attempt  to  do 
this  and  at  the  same  time  be  a  very  indifferent  artisan 
in  a  dozen  other  callings,  which  under  other  conditions 
ne  would  be  compelled  to  nractice  to  indifferently 
supply  his  wants.  He  soon  became  aware  that  he 
could  procure  clothes  to  wear,  boots  for  his  feet  and 
tools  to  till  the  soil,  of  better  quality  and  at  less  ex- 
pense in  exchange  for  the  pioducts  of  his  farm  from 
people  who  made  a  specialty  of  their  production,  than 
if  he  made  ♦hem  himself  —  while  the  artisans  ex- 
clusively engaged  in  their  production,  and  who  could 
fashion  more  perfect  implements  at  much  leas  expense 
than  could  the  farmer,  were  only  too  glad  to  exchange 
the  products  of  their  ingenuity  and  skill  for  the  neces- 
saries of  life,  and  bo  barter  was  established. 

To  make  these  various  exchanges  much  time  was 
lost  and  much  inconvenience  resulted.    After  the  lapse 


MoNBY   AND   RANKINn.  85 

of  time  thii  wm  in  a  mesiure  r(ini«di«<l  by  (etting 
apart  a  certain  day  at  itattHl  timeii  whew  all  conhl 
gather  for  the  interchange  of  prmliictii.  Thi»  proved 
a  step  in  advance,  and  the  ciigtom  spread  to  all  countrien 
where  civilization  obtained  a  foothold,  and  this  waa 
the  origin  of  the  modem  fair  or  market  day. 

But  a  new  way  miwt  be  found  to  tolve  an  old 
difficulty,  wliich,  with  the  increased  opportunities  for 
the  interchange  of  commodities,  became  more  and  more 
intolerable.     One  farmer  had  only  wheat  to  sell  and 
needed  in  excliange  only  a  plough,  but  the  maker  of 
the  plough  already  had  wheat  enough,  and  so  both  had 
to  seek  a  third  party,  a  fourth,  a  fifth,  or  more,  before 
it  was  possible  to  effect  an  exchange.     Another  former 
had  a  fatte<l  ox  and  wanted  only  a  pair  of  boots.     The 
boot-maker  wanted  the  beef  for  food,  but  us  one  fatteil 
ox  would  buy  many  pairs  of  boots,  another  inconven. 
ience  resulted.     Again,  owing  to  soil,  climate  and  the 
varied  distribution  of  metals  and  minerals,  a  surplHS 
of  msny  things  is  produced   in  one  locution  which 
cauuot  find  r  purciiuser  where  produced,  while  people 
at  a  di  tance  might  (lesire  or  even  be  in  great  need  of 
them,  and   yet  it   might  be  entirely   impructicul  to 
attempt  their  exchange  by  barter.       Jso  under  such 
conditions  it  would  be  well-nigh  impossible  to  ky  by 
the  surplus  produced  during  the  more  active  years  of 
life  for  use  in  old  age  and  sickness.     Hence  the  neces- 
sity was  reulii!ed  for  some  unit  of  vulue  to  facilitate 
the   exchunge  of  products  and   by   means  of  which 
man  can  not  only  conveniently  supply  his  wants,  but 
also  be  able  to  lay  by  the  surplus  for  future  use,  and 
so  a  unit  of  value,  or  measure  of  vulix ,  came  into  use. 
This  measure  of  value  varied  at  diffe  •  >.t  times  and  in 


30 


Gatiikrei)  Waiflkts. 


different  couutries,  but  all  may  be  classed  under  tlie 
generic  term,  money. 

In  some  countries  products  of  the  soil,  such  as 
com,  tea  and  tobacco,  were  a<lopte(I :  in  others  skins 
of  animals,  shells,  human  beings  as  slaves,  oil  and  cat- 
tle. Lexicographers  tell  us  that  our  word  "pecuniary" 
is  derived  from  the  Latin  word  fecus,  cattle.  In  some 
countries,  even  in  our  day,  commodities  are  still  the 
medium  of  e.\change ;  but  they  have  long  since  been 
discarded  for  such  use  by  nations  in  touch  with  the 
civiliisation  of  the  nineteenth  centurj',  and  coins  made 
from  the  precious  metals  have  taken  their  place. 

Money  has  been  iletiued  by  a  noted  American 
writer  on  political  ei-onomy  and  money  as  "that  which 
passes  freely  from  hand  to  hand  throughout  the  com- 
munity in  final  discharge  of  debts  an<l  full  payment 
of  commodities,  being  accepted  eciually  without  refer- 
ence to  the  character  or  credit  of  the  perscm  who  offers 
it,  and  without  the  intention  of  the  person  who  re<'eives 
it  to  consume  it,  or  to  enjoy  it,  or  to  apply  it  to  any 
other  use  than  in  turn  to  tender  it  to  others  in  discharge 
of  debts  and  payment  of  commodities." 

No  more  interesting  chapter  is  to  Ije  found  in  the 
pages  of  profane  history  than  that  wlierein  is  recorded 
the  origin  of  this  now  very  cornniou  medium  of  e.\- 
change,  its  development,  and  the  impetus  which  it  has 
given  to  agriculture,  manufactures  and  commerce,  an<l 
thrcuigh  them  to  civilization. 

Tlie  invention  of  money  c(>iue<l  from  the  precious 
metals  is  one  of  the  \ery  few  great  inventions  of  the 
world — an  invention  that  may  well  be  called  the  father 
of  commerce.  Without  mon-y  commerce  as  we  know 
it  would  be  impossible,  am'  without  commerce  one  of 


1 


Money  amd  Banking. 


37 


the  three  jfreat  levers  which  move  the  world  upward 
to  better  things  would  be  blotted  out. 

The  vast  interchantfe  of  goods  and  produets  in  our 
day  tn'kufi  place  so  easily — with  such  facility  and  great 
rapidity  -that  it  seldom  occurs  to  us  to  ask  how  it  is 
■I'^n,".  and,  if  we  think  of  tlie  matter  at  all,  we  are  apt 
to  conclude  that  it  lias  always  been  so.  Hut  the  anni- 
hilation of  time  and  spa<'e  and  the  prodigious  develop- 
ment of  commerce,  are  practically  limited  to  our  own 
day— and  money  lias  been  a  most  important  contrili- 
uting  factor. 

Herculean  enterprises  whicli  would  have  astounded 
the  world,  and  wliicli  would  have  been  pronounced 
visionary  and  impractical  but  a  few  genei^ations  ago, 
are  now  undertaken  and  carried  to  siurcessful  issue 
without  apparent  effort — and  money  is  the  vivifying 
agent.  Hospitals  of  great  e.xtent  to  alleviate  human 
suffering,  halls  of  learning  for  the  upbuilding  and 
elevation  of  humanity,  libraries  c(mtaining  the  intel- 
lectual treasures  of  Time,  and  eleemosynary  institutions 
to  project  a  ray  of  sunsliine  into  tlie  lives  of  the  aged 
and  unfortunate — are  among  the  triumphs  of  civiliza- 
tion, and  all  made  possible  by  money. 

As  miglit  be  supposed,  the  precious  metals  weiv 
tirst  used  as  a  medium  of  exchange  during  the  old 
<'ivilisiation  of  the  lOast,  where  they  were  weighed  at 
each  transaction,  and  they  were  received  and  delivered 
as  80  much  bullion  or  metal.  For  many  centuries  all 
the  commerce  of  the  lOastern  countries  was  carried  on 
by  this  method. 

In  the  pages  of  sacred  and  profane  history  hc 
read  of  the  shekels  or  pounds  of  gold  an<l  silver  used 
in  ancient  Assyria  and  i'.abylonia,  but  while  the  same 


38 


Gathered  AVaiflkts. 


I    I 


term  is  used  in  the  East  and  some  of  the  countries  of 
tlie  Western  world  in  our  day,  bullion,  or  tiie  metals 
in  bulk,  is  no  longer  the  medium  of  exchange. 

A  most  important  step  in  advance  was  taken  when 
the  precious  metals  were  put  into  circulation  in  pieces 
of  uniform  fineness,  weight  and  value,  duly  stamped 
with  the  official  seal  or  coat-of-arms  of  the  country  or 
city  which  issued  them.  This  fixity  of  value  greatly 
facilitated  business  transactions  and  gave  great  impetus 
to  commerce.  Like  many  other  great  adaptations, 
inventions  and  discoveries,  it  is  to-day  a  disputed  ques- 
tion wliat  nation  and  people  were  the  first  to  give 
this  great  improvement  in  mercantile  transactions  to 
mankind. 

Some  historians  contend  that  the  Lydians  made 
use  of  suoli  coins  si.fteen  centuries  before  the  Christian 
era,  while  others  claim  the  honor  for  the  Greeks  in 
Phociea  in  lona,  who,  in  the  seventh  century  before 
Christ,  first  conceived  the  idea  of  coining  money,  that 
is,  making  pieces  of  equal  value  and  stamping  on  each 
piece  the  city  arms,  the  phoca  or  seal,  thus  giving  the 
warranty  of  their  dominion  for  the  right  weight, 
fineness  and  value  of  these  pieces. 

The  mechanic  art  in  those  distant  times  was  but 
in  embryo,  and  nowhere  was  this  more  in  evidence 
than  in  the  crude  coins  produced  for  circulation  as 
money,  samples  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  many  of 
the  museums  of  the  world. 

Varying  much  in  thickness  and  contour,  no  two 
being  precisely  alike,  it  was  an  easy  matter  for  those 
inclined  to  dishonesty  to  pare  off  a  little  of  the  valua- 
ble metal  here  and  there,  without  detection,  from  the 
coins  passing  through  their  hands.     This  evil  became 


Money  and  Banking. 


39 


very  general  and  extended  over  centuries,  and  with- 
stood every  attempt  to  suppress  it,  although  the  crime 
was  made  high  treason  in  many  countries  and  the 
severest  and  most  cruel  penalties  were  meted  out  to 
offenders.  Fabulous  wealth  was  accumulated  by  this 
nefarious,  thieving  practice,  and  the  temptation  was 
so  great  as  to  withstand  every  effort  to  suppress  it. 
Paring  and  shaving  became  too  slow,  and  operators 
boldly  resorted  to  clipping.  This  so  defaced  the  coins 
that  often  it  was  impossible  to  tell  what  was  their 
original  value.  Impecunious  and  spendthrift  kings, 
taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  clipped  coins  of  less 
intrinsic  than  nominal  value  circulated  at  their  face  or 
nominal  value,  to  fill  their  depleted  treasuries  resorted 
to  the  robber  method  of  issuing  coins  with  half  and 
sometimes  less  than  half  of  the  requisite  amount  of 
the  precious  metal,  and  forced  them  upon  their  unwill- 
ing subjects. 

Then  a  very  grave  practical  difficulty  arose,  which 
may  be  best  explained  by  a  very  commonplace  illus- 
tration. Let  us  suppose  that  a  bushel  of  wheat  and  a 
pair  of  shoes  to  be  of  equal  value  and  either  could  be 
bought  for  a  certain  coin.  The  farmer  having  the 
wheat  to  sell  does  not  want  the  shoes  at  present,  and 
the  shoemaker  having  the  shoes  to  dispose  of  does  not 
want  the  wheat  for  some  months  to  come.  Neither  is 
willing  to  exchange  the  product  of  his  labor  for  a 
piece  of  metal  which  might  not  be  worth  half  as  much 
six  months  hence,  and  which  would  compel  either  one 
then  to  give  twice  as  much  in  exchange  as  would  have 
been  necessary  but  a  few  short  months  before. 

This  debasement  of  the  currency  then,  as  it  al- 
ways has  since,  worked  such  injury  to  the  mercantile 


40 


Qatbebeo  Waiflets. 


world  as  to  paralyze  business  and  destroy  commerce, 
leaving  behind  its  blackened  trail  of  stagnation  and 
ruination  as  a  sorrowful  legacy  to  coming  years.  Thus, 
generations  and  centuries  ago,  stability  in  the  currency 
based  upon  its  intrinsic  value  was  found  to  be  neces- 
sary to  avoid  excessive  fluctuations  in  values  and  con- 
sequent disorder  in  the  business  world.  Many  now  think 
that  the  question  of  a  debased  currently  never  arose  to 
perplex  the  people  until  our  day,  and  that  it  can  be  jus- 
tified and  made  helpful  to  a  nation  by  the  sleight-of- 
hand  of  some  ignorant  sophist  or  shallow  theorist, 
forgetting  that  the  issue  is  as  old  as  that  of  coinage 
itself,  that  it  has  always  been  attended  mth  deplorable 
results,  and  that  only  one  solution  is  possible,  as  those 
deeply  schooled  in  the  science  of  political  economy  and 
the  great  financiers  of  the  world  unanimously  pro- 
claim, and  the  voice  of  history  abundantly  proves. 

Macaulay,  writing  of  the  times  of  William  the 
Third,  some  200  years  ago,  and  the  debased  money 
then  in  circulation,  tells,  as  no  other  pen  has  ever  told, 
the  evils  resulting  therefrom,  and  his  words  should 
prove  a  salutary  warning  to  all  coming  generations. 

The  evil  had  grown  to  such  proportions  during 
the  reign  of  this  sovereign  that  the  most  heroic  meas- 
ures were  resorted  to  to  put  a  stop  to  its  further  prog- 
ress. Laws  more  stringent  than  ever  were  enacted, 
and  a  law  was  passed  prohibiting  the  circulation  of  all 
coins  by  tale,  and  so  they  were  received  and  paid  as  in 
more  primitive  times,  by  weight  alone,  to  the  great 
loss  and  ruin  oi  many.  But  as  a  return  to  old  condi- 
tions and  to  old  methods  is  8  step  backw.-- d,  and  as 
improvement  and  progress  never  retrace  their  steps 
permanently,  a  way  was  found  out  of  the  difficulty  by 


Money  and  Banking. 


41 


making  all  coins  of  equal  value  exactly  alike,  made 
poBsible  by  improvement  and  progress  in  the  mechanic 
art,  and  milling  the  edges  or  stamping  thereon  some 
motto  or  legend  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  clip  or 
mutilate  them  without  detection,  in  which  shape  we 
have  them  now. 

There  have  always  been  industrious  people  of  fru- 
gal habits  who  limit  their  expenditures  to  an  amount 
below  their  income,  or,  to  use  a  common  and  well- 
understood  colloquial  phrase,  "who  lay  by  something 
for  a  rainy  day."  To  tliese  may  be  added  widows, 
minors  and  invalids,  as  well  as  a  very  large  class  com- 
posed of  those  who  are  better  fitted  by  nature  to  serve 
others  than  to  manage  for  themselves,  all  of  whom  may 
inherit  or  otherwise  come  into  possession  of  wealth, 
and  with  growing  commerce  and  advancing  civiliza- 
tion the  volume  of  currency  expanded  in  proportion 
and  its  proper  care  and  management  pressed  for  a 
solution.  To  carry  much  wealth  about  upon  the  per- 
son exposes  it  to  the  constant  risk  of  loss  by  violence 
or  otherwise,  and  if  hidden  away  it  might  be  lost  by 
the  sudden  death  of  the  owner,  by  Are,  or  be  stolen  by 
burglars  and  robbers;  and  aside  from  these  and  other 
risks  such  vast  wealth  hoarded  would  be  wholly  unpro- 
ductive, and  while  earning  nothing  for  its  owners  would 
be  working  g"  vt  injury  to  the  community  by  di^tllrI^ 
ing  financial  distribution  and  equilibrium. 

As  it  was  impractical  for  each  individual  to  pro- 
vide (ire  and  burglar  proof  vaults  for  the  adequate 
protection  of  his  property,  or  to  engage  in  financial 
business  in  a<l<lition  to  his  other  occupation,  so  in  this, 
as  in  other  walks  of  life,  the  division  of  labor  solved 
the  difKculty. 


It 


42  Gathkrki)  Waiflkts. 

A  single  individual,  or  an  association  of  individ- 
uals, by  providing  a  plac-e  of  safety  could  better  pro- 
tect and  care  for  the  surplus  earnings  of  all  than  each 
individual  could  do  for  himself;  and  by  loaning  this 
money  to  the  more  entei-prising,  as  weU  as  those  in 
need,  the  welfare  of  borrower  and  lender  was  not  only 
promoted,  but  also  that  of  the  whole  community,  and 
so  banks  and  banking  came  into  existence.  The  term 
bank  is  said  to  be  derived  from  bancha,  a  bench,  upon 
which  the  money  changers  sat  in  bygone  years  during 
the  time  of  fairs  or  market  days. 

With  the  establishment  of  banks  an  old  element 
in  society,  confidence,  became  more  prominent  and  of 
greater  value  than  had  ever  previously  been  accorded 
to  it,  and  without  which  banking  as  now  conducted 
would  be  impossible.     M'ithout  the  certainty  that  he 
could  have  it  whenever  he  might  want  it,  or  at  some 
stated  time  mutually  agreed  upon,  no  man  would  en- 
trust his  money  to  the  keeping  of  others,  and  those 
receiving  it,  the  bankers,  would  not  loan  it  to  others 
unless  fully  conttdent  that  it  would  be  paid  back  at 
the  end  of  the  term  for  which  it  was  loaned.     Con- 
Hdence,  therefore,  founded  upon  integrity,  is  the  chief 
corner-stone  supporting  the  Hnancial  superstructure, 
and  without  this  there  would  be  nothing  but  discord 
and  chaos  in  the  world  of  finance  and  business.     Busi- 
ness depression  and  attendant  upheavals  and  failures 
resulting  therefrom  are  some  of  the  injuries  wrought 
by  impaired  confidence,  even  in  a  minor  degree,  which 
many  of  my  hearers  have  witnessed,  and  which  it  is 
not  necessary  for  me  to  enlarge  upon  now. 

There  is  no  business  of  equal  magnitude  or  impor- 
tance BO  very  generaUy  misunderstood,  or  which  is  more 


MoNKT   AND   BaNKINO. 


43 


violently  assailed  by  the  ignorant,  shallow-brained 
schemers  and  designing  adventurers  and  tricksters, 
who  grow  not  weary  howling  about  the  banking 
monopoly  and  the  wicked,  bloated  bond-li.)lders  and 
financiers.  From  this  ill-favored  class  and  worthless 
element  in  society  nothing  receives  greater  criticism 
and  condemnation  than  success  in  the  financial  world; 
and  the  higher  the  social  standing  of  him  who  achieves 
it  and  the  greater  his  success  the  more  violent  and 
senseless  their  denunciations !  How  anything  can 
be  a  monopoly,  favored  with  special  and  exclusive 
privileges,  when  every  one  is  free  to  engage  therein 
under  the  same  conditions,  is  a  question  too  deep  and 
too  profound  for  me  to  understand  or  explain,  and  its 
solution  I  will  leave  to  those  jaundiced  gentlemen  who 
never  made  a  success  of  anything  which  they  ever 
undertook,  but  who  have  abundant  advice  and  criti- 
cism to  offer  to  all  who  Iiave. 

Banks  and  banking,  as  properly  known  and  under- 
stood, may  be  classed  as  business  (national  in  the  United 
States)  banks,  trust  companies,  savings  banks  and  co-op- 
erative banks — tlie  first  organized  and  operated  under 
national  laws  in  this  country  and  the  others  under  the 
state  laws  of  their  respective  states. 

Savings  banks  having  for  their  principal  object  to 
furnish  a  safe  place  for  the  wage-earner  and  man  of 
limited  means  to  deposit  surplus  earnings,  and  their 
investment  being  limited  by  law  to  very  high  class 
securities  to  ensure  safety,  their  function  and  scope 
are  entirely  unlike  those  of  the  national  banks  and 
trust  companies,  and  they  may  more  properly  be 
classed  with  eleemosynary  than  banking  institutions. 
Knowing  thut  my  hearers  are  more  generally  interested 


m 


':% 


44 


Gatiikbki)  Waiklkth. 


in  savings  banks  than  in  other  flnancial  institutic  us,  I 
shall  offer  no  apology  for  dwelling,  later,  at  greater 
length  upon  their  organization,  management  and  func- 
tions than  upon  the  others. 

Co-operative  banks,  as  their  name  implies,  are 
organized  for  mutual  help  and  advantage.  They  loan 
the  money  contributed  by  the  members,  who  purchase 
"shares,"  paying  therefor  by  monthly  installments,  a 
stated  amount  per  month,  until  the  shares  reach  matu- 
rity, or,  in  other  words,  until  paid  for  in  full.  They 
limit  their  business  exclusively  to  members,  loaning 
their  money  to  the  highest  bidders  therefor  in  amounts 
proportional  to  the  number  of  "shares"  held  by  such 
members. 

While  these  banks  are  admirably  adapted  to  the 
specific  purpose  for  which  they  are  organized,  and  have 
proved  of  undoubted  advantage  by  encouraging  habits 
of  thrift  and  economy,  by  enabling  many  to  own  homes 
who  probably  would  not  have  had  them  otherwise,  and 
by  adding  taxable  property  to  the  community,  yet  they 
are  not  at  all  adapted  to  the  wants  of  business  and 
commerce,  and  it  is  only  by  a  stretch  of  language  that 
they  can  be  classed  as  banks. 

The  objects,  scope  and  methods  of  national  banks 
and  trust  companies  being  substantially  the  same  they 
may  be  considered  together,  and  what  is  said  of  one 
applies  almost  as  well  to  the  other. 

It  is  true  that  national  banks  issue  notes  payable 
on  demand,  or  bank  bills  as  they  are  commonly  called, 
and  that  trust  companies  do  not;  but  whether  there  is 
or  is  not  any  advantage  in  this  is  an  open  question, 
many  of  the  leading  bankers  of  the  country  being  on 
record  in  the  negative,  and  many  of  the  lager  banks 


Money  and  Bankino.  45 

with  capital  runnintf  into  the  millions  having  in  circu. 
lation  only  a  nominal  amount  of  bank  notes  or  bills. 

Trust  companies  usually  depart  from  the  specific 
lines  generally  pursued  by  the  national  banks  in  vari- 
ous  ways,  some  of  which  are  providing  vaults  for  the 
safe  keeping  of  valuables,  which  are  rented  to  the 
public,  acting  as  trustees  of  estates  and  of  funds  set 
apart  for  some  specific  purpose,  acting  as  transfer  agents 
of  the  stock  of  corporations,  as  trustees  for  bonds,  guaiv 
anteeing  bonds,  and  in  many  other  ways  acting  as  fidu- 
ciary agents. 

But  in  the  matter  of  transacting  a  general  bank- 
ing business,  receiving  deposits,  discounting  notes  and 
the  like,  national  banks  and  trust  companies  may  be 
regarded  as  substantiaUy  alike,  the  one  competing 
with  the  other  for  the  financial  business  of  the  world. 
And  now  we  have  an-ived  at  the  gateway  of  one  of 
the  marvels  of  the  nineteenth  century— the  growth, 
development,  extent  and  importance  of  the  banking 
interest;  where  giant  minds  and  brainiest  men  meet  in 
the  arena  in  financial  centers;  where  tireless  energy 
and  Herculean  endeavor  join  hands  with  coolness  and 
intrepidity;  where  enterprise,  bordering  upon  rash- 
ness, snatches  success  from  out  the  devouring  jaws  of 
failure. 

All  this  is  not  true  of  every  bank,  for  banks  are 
very  human  institutions,  and  like  all  others  they  are 
characterized  by  great  diflferences;— from  the  small 
bank  in  the  country  town,  whose  volume  of  business 
runs  up  only  to  the  modest  thousands  in  a  year,  and 
where  the  work  is  aU  probably  performed  by  the 
cashier  under  the  direction  of  a  board  of  directors,  up 
to  the  great  metropolitan  institutions,  the  volume  of 


46 


GaTHKRRD   WAIfLKTa. 


whoge  buiiness  not  infreqaently  mounts  ap  into  mil- 
lions daily,  and  in  which  greatest  ability  and  skill  are 
required  in  their  or);anization  and  manaj^ement  to 
insure  efliciency,  promptness  and  safety. 

Here  again  we  find  the  principle  of  sub-division  of 
labor  in  operation,  the  work  in  these  vast  financial 
institutions  being  sub-divided  and  devolving  upon  a 
president,  vice-president,  board  of  directors,  cashier, 
assistant  cashier  and  even  a  second  assistant  cashier, 
receiving  teller,  paying  teller,  note  teller,  financial 
rating  clerk,  call  loan  clerk,  discount  clerk,  mail  clerk, 
head  bookkeeper,  and  any  number  of  assistants,  sten- 
ographers, typewriters,  messenger  boys,  porters,  watch- 
ii:on  and  others,  all  having  well  defined  duties  to  per- 
f'Tin,  most  of  which  are  evident  by  the  title  borne  by 
the  designated  oihcial,  but  which  for  the  want  of  time  I 
will  not  now  attempt  to  explain.  I  would  also  bespeak 
your  forbearance  in  the  same  connection  while  I  briefly 
touch  upon  the  various  instruments  falling  under  the 
designation  of  commercial  paper  and  such  as  are  used 
in  financial  transactions:  notes — demand,  time,  secured 
by  collr.teral  and  mortgage;  drafts — at  sight,  ( ime  and 
with  bill  of  lading;  checks — certified,  to  bearer,  to 
order,  cashier's,  certificate  of  deposit;  stocks — com- 
mon, preferred,  wiih  various  conditions  and  stipula- 
tions, rights;  bonds — debenture,  mortgage,  coupon,  reg- 
istered, etc. 

Few  people  not  directly  interested  in  banking  can 
have  any  adequate  idea  of  the  prodigious  amount  of 
exacting  labor  daily  performed  in  baaking  institu- 
tions, the  clock-like  precision  with  which  every  trans- 
action is  handled,  and  the  complete  closing  up  of  every 
item  of  business  with  each  day. 


MoNKY    AND   BaNKINO.  47 

Such  inHtitutiong  are  the  bulwarks  of  the  bubineH 
world,  must  keep  in  cloHeHt  touch  with  all  the  peal 
fluancial  ceuten*  of  the  globe,  and  be  ready  to  act  at 
once  in  emergency  to  advance  or  protect  its  interests, 
at  the  same  time  giving  every  attention  to  detail  and 
routine,  treating  its  most  humble  customer  with  the 
same  courtesy  and  attention  as  it  does  the  millionaire. 

Nor  is  all  tiiis  anxiety,  energy,  toil  ond  responsi- 
bility for  an  hour,  a  day,  a  week,  for  they  keep  their 
ceaseless  round  as  unending  as  the  years  in  their 
course. 

It  is  said  that  "peace  hath  its  victories  no  less  than 
war,"  and  us  finance  has  sent  its  offspring,  cr)mmerce. 
to  plant  its  banner  upon  tlie  outposts  of  civilization, 
to  elevate  and  ennoble  without  the  shedding  of  blood, 
is  it  asking  too  much  to  accord  a  pLice  upon  the  ped- 
estal of  fame  to  the  mighty  ones  of  finance  above  that 
accorded  to  the  warriors  who  carried  the  sword  and 
flame  and  did  the  work  of  death  ami  destnictioni 

Thus  far  my  remarks  have  in  the  main  been  lim- 
ited to  the  origin  of  money,  its  progressive  develop- 
ment into  the  form  in  which  we  know  it,  and  to  banks 
organized  to  receive  and  render  it  more  available  in 
the  industries  and  commerce  of  the  world.  Such  banks 
are  organized  to  receive  deposits,  to  issue  bank  bills — 
which  are  simply  notes  payable  on  demand,  a  great 
invention  to  save  the  annoyance  and  risk  of  carrying 
obout  cumbrous  and  heavy  weighing  specie  for  use  in 
commercial  transactions — to  make  loans  of  money, 
which,  aside  from  tlie  capital  of  the  bank,  is  the 
money  of  their  depositors,  and  such  other  financial 
functions  as  they  may  be  permitted  to  engage  in  and 
transact  under  the  laws  of  the  country  in  which  they 


,m 


48 


Oathkrrd  Waiflktk. 


mre  loc-ated.  Such  bank*  are  merely  joint  stock  com- 
panieg  and  a«  auch  are  governed,  as  are  others,  by  a 
board  of  directors,  elected  by  and  from  the  stock-hold- 
ers by  stock  ballot,  who  in  turn  elect  the  president  and 
and  other  subordinate  otticials. 

In  this  country  such  corporations  differ  from 
manufacturini;,  mercantile,  insurance,  raining  and  oth- 
ers only  in  the  work  transacted  and  the  laws  under 
which  they  operate,  national  banks  beini?  orj^anized 
and  operated  under  national  laws,  and  trust  compuniei 
and  other  corporations  under  the  laws  of  the  different 
states  from  which  they  hold  their  charters  and  in  which 
they  operate. 

Trust  companies  have  a  stated  capital,  issue  stock 
therefor,  elect  their  officers  as  other  corporations  do, 
and  transact  a  general  banking  business,  save  that 
they  are  not  allowed  to  issue  and  ciriMilate  as  money 
their  notes  payable  on  demand  generally  known  as 
bank  bills.  In  addition  to  the  general  work  of  banks. 
trust  companies,  unlike  national  banks,  are  not  restric- 
ted as  to  the  amount  that  they  may  loan  to  a  single 
borrower,  and  they  are  permitted  to  engage  in  many 
other  lines  of  financial  and  fiduciary  work  that  national 
banks  are  not  allowed  to  engage  in,  such  as  acting  as 
trustees  for  bond-holders,  as  registrars  and  transfer 
agents  for  stocks,  as  underwriters,  e.xecutors  of  wills, 
administrators  of  estates,  guardians  of  minors,  etc. 

Aside  from  the  fact  that  savings  banks  receive 
deposits  and  invest  money,  they  have  little  else  in 
common  with  business  banks,  sometimes  designated 
banks  of  issue — national  banks  as  designated  in  this 
country — or  with  trust  companies.  Like  trust  com- 
panies they  are  organized  under  and  governed  by  state 


MoNKV    AMD    DaNKINO.  49 

Uw» —  unlike  them  they  have  no  capital  and  in  con- 
aeiiuence  no  »took-h<)l(ler«,  ami,  therefore,  no  peraonal 
interests  to  promote  or  nelliKh  purponeH  to  gerve. 
The  work  of  their  management  is  lar){ely  for  others 
•nd  not  for  individual  profit. 

The  first  formal  step  taken  to  organize  a  savings 
bank  is  the  formation  of  a  l»oanl  of  corporators,  com- 
posed of  men  of  probity  and  standing  in  tlie  eoramiin- 
ity,  who  take  tlie  necessary  steps  for  incorporation. 
When  a  charter  is  granted  a  meeting  of  the  corpora- 
tors is  called  wiio  elect  a  board  of  trustees,  wlio  in  turn 
elect  a  president,  treusiirer,  board  of  investment,  and 
the  other  officers  of  tlie  bank. 

Savings  banks  are  primarily  organized  to  furnish 
a  place  where  those  of  small  means  and  wage-earners 
may  safely  deposit  their  money — a  place  whore  their 
earnings  will  not  be  exposed  to  the  ha/jird  of  loss  by 
theft,  by  tire,  by  being  hidden  and  the  place  where 
secreted  forgotten,  destroyed,  or  not  made  known  to 
others  because  of  insanity  or  sudden  death — a  place 
where  their  money  will  be  safeguarded  from  thought- 
less expenditure,  as  too  often  happens  when  carried 
about  upon  the  person,  or  lost  in  many  other  ways. 

Another  function  performed  by  savings  banks,  a 
function  but  little  less  in  importance,  if  any,  than  the 
foregoing,  a  function  little  understood  and  seldom  com- 
manding a  thought  from  the  masses  in  this  wild, 
on-rushing  and  superficial  age,  is  that  they  serve  to  keep 
vast  sums  of  money  in  circulation  that  would  otherwise 
be  hoarded,  that  a  large  portion  of  this  money  is  made 
available  to  many  in  moderate  circumstances  who  wish 
to  build  and  own  homes — people  who  otherwise  could 
never  hope  to  have  this  added  comfort  and  blessing. 


li  J 


50 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


'i''i 


The  assets  of  the  savings  banks  in  the  state  of 
Massachusetts  reach  in  round  numbers  the  prodigious 
amount  of  $770,0((0,llO().lK».  It  is  worth  the  bestowal 
of  a  little  time  to  consider  what  a  steadying  influence 
the  careful  investment  of  this  vast  amount,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  that  of  other  states,  has  upon  the  financial 
world,  and  what  calamity  would  result  from  the  calling 
in  of  real  estate  loans  by  the  banks,  or  its  withdrawal 
and  hoarding  by  depositors. 

There  were  at  the  close  of  the  year,  October  31, 
litlO,  over  two  million  depositors  in  the  192  savings 
banks  of  this  state  whose  cost  of  management  was 
less  than  two  hundred  and  sixty-six  one  thousandths 
of  one  per  cent,  of  their  assets,  a  record  of  economical 
management  not  equalled  by  other  financial  institu- 
tions in  this  country. 

So  well  are  they  managed,  so  well  and  so  zealously 
are  the  interests  of  their  depositors  safeguarded,  that 
less  than  four  ten-thousandths  of  one  per  cent,  would 
pay  all  losses  incurred  by  depositors  for  the  length- 
ened period  of  the  past  seventy  years — a  record  unap- 
proached  in  any  other  walk  in  life.  And  yet  with  all 
this  ability  in  management  and  frugality  in  expendi- 
ture there  are  those  in  this  dissatisfied  and  speculative 
age  who  grumble  because  larger  dividends  are  not 
paid — people  who  apparently  put  risk  above  secu- 
rity— people  who  do  not  understand  the  functions  of 
savings  banks,  or  the  purposes  for  which  they  are 
organized. 

Perhaps  I  cannot  do  better  here  than  to  enter  very 
briefly  upon  an  explanation  of  this  matter.  This  I  will 
proceed  to  do  by  using  the  words  of  an  able  and 
respected  bank  commissioner  of  our  state,  now  de- 


Money  and  Bankixo. 


51 


Appealing  to  him  to  learn  why  the  scope  of 
investments,  which  savings  banks  were  allowed  to 
make,  was  not  extended  bo  as  to  include  a  greater 
range,  I  was  asked: 

"What  forS  Is  not  the  present  list  ample  to 
absorb  all  the  money  you  have  for  such  investments?" 
I  made  reply  that  it  was,  but  that  if  it  was  extended 
it  might  include  securities  that  would  pay  better  inter- 
est or  dividends  than  those  that  the  banks  were  now 
permitted  to  invest  in.  Divining  that  my  purpose 
was  that  the  bank  with  which  I  have  the  honor  to  be 
connected  might,  as  well  as  others,  thereby  be  enabled 
to  increase  its  dividends,  he  said: 

"No,  we  cannot  admit  to  the  list  of  securities  in 
which  the  money  of  savings  banks  may  be  invested 
anything  of  a  doubtful  or  uncertain  character,  no  mat- 
ter what  interest  or  dividend  it  pays.  You  are  to 
remember  that  the  primary  function  of  a  savings  bank 
is  to  safely  keep  the  money  deposited  with  it,  and  to 
be  able  to  give  it  back  to  the  depositors  wiienever 
called  for. 

"The  dividends  paid  are  another  and  all  together 
different  and  subordinate  matter.  Of  course,  if  the 
money  can  be  safely  invested  so  as  to  return  the  depos- 
itor a  little  more  than  was  deposited,  well  and  good; 
but  no  speculative  inducement  or  promise  of  large  divi- 
dends should  ever  be  held  out  to  secure  deposits. 
When  statistics  show  that  ninety-five  per  cent,  of  all 
who  engage  in  business  fail,  most  of  whom  lose  their 
all,  let  those  not  content  with  the  dividends  paid  take 
their  money  and  invest  it  themselves,  when  perhaps 
they  may  learn,  when  it  is  too  late,  that  security  is 
better  than  the  promise  of  great  returns.    And,  again. 


S3 


Gathkred  Waiflets. 


the  savings  banks  should  not  pay  such  large  dividends 
as  will  attract  the  deposits  of  the  wealthy  who  wish  to 
participate  in  good  dividends  while  shirking  the  tax 
collector  and  the  care,  risk  and  responsibility  of  the 
management  of  their  wealth." 

This  so  succinctly  and  cogently  summarizes  the 
basic  principles  wliich  underlie  the  savings  banks  of 
our  state  that  it  is  unnecessary  for  me  to  add  a  word 
thereto. 

It  would,  however,  be  a  startling  revelation  to 
many  were  the  individuals  and  numbers  known  of 
those  who  hearkened  to  the  voice  of  the  tempter  and 
withdrew  their  deposits  from  sayings  banks,  allured 
by  seductive  promises  and  finely  engraved  and  printed 
literature  and  the  promise  of  big  dividends,  to  invest 
in  wild^jat  ventures  only  to  lose  all  and  repine  when 
it  was  too  late. 

Others  in  their  pride,  ignorance,  or  thoughtless- 
ness, think  it  a  great  favor  to  a  bank  to  make  a  deposit 
therein,  unmindful  of  or  forgetting  the  fact  that  it  is 
the  bank  that  is  doing  them  a  service  for  which  they 
should  be  gratefuL  The  aggregate  of  small  deposits 
enables  the  bank  to  make  advantageous  loans  that  indi- 
vidual depositors  could  never  make  for  themselves, 
and  being  looked  after  sharply  by  capaole  and  experi- 
enced men,  and  safeguarded  by  the  laws  of  the  state, 
it  requires  do  profundity  of  learning  or  deep  discern- 
ment to  understand  which  is  most  benefitted. 

Another  class  there  is  who  fail  to  understand  and 
realize  that  the  interest  of  the  one  is  the  interest  of 
both — people  who  carry  their  money  about  with  them 
and  refuse  to  deposit  it  until  the  quarter  day  arrives 
when  they  flock  to  the  bank  with  their  money.    This 


Money  and  Banking. 


53 


savors  of  ignorance  or  sharp  practice,  or  botli.  It  never 
seems  to  occur  to  them  that  it  may  be  weeks  and  it  may 
be  months  before  the  bank  can  place  the  money  to  earn 
the  dividend  that  they  expect  and  be  woefully  disap- 
pointed not  to  receive.  Should  this  wrong  grow  or  be 
unduly  persisted  in  a  remedy  may  have  to  bo  sought 
by  appealing  to  the  legislature  to  enact  such  a  law  that 
no  deposit  in  a  savings  bank  should  be  allowed  to 
go  on  interest  until  thirty  days  after  it  had  been  re- 
ceived— a  very  reasonable  time  in  which  to  invest  it 

Another  class  are  in  evidence  in  savings  banks 
loaded  with  inquiries  about  th«  management,  about 
dividends,  what  will  the  bank  pay,  etc., — not  knowin^^ 
or  forgetful  of  the  fact  tha.  all  that  is  earned  after  pro- 
viding for  the  guaranty  fund  in  accordance  with  the 
laws  of  the  state,  the  expenses  of  management,  which 
have  been  shown  to  be  infinitesimally  small — less  than 
one-fourth  of  one  per  cent  of  their  assets — and  the  tax 
imposed  by  the  state,  are  returned  as  dividends  to 
the  depositors,  and  that  this  may  so  vary  that  no 
human  foresight  can  predict  what  the  future  may 
bring  forth. 

Nor  are  borrowers  at  savings  banks  blameless  or 
beyond  criticism.  Many  there  are  who  pose  as  lead- 
ing citizens,  even  as  philanthropists,  if  you  will,  some 
seated  in  the  chair  of  authority,  and  others  in  various 
walks  of  life,  who  go  up  and  down  the  highways  of 
finance  striving  to  cajole  and  brow-beat  officers  of 
banks  and  banking  houses  in  their  attempt  to  obtain 
bargain-counter  rates  of  interest  and  lessen  the  earn- 
ings upon  the  money  of  the  hard  working  and  small 
depositors.  Often  these  people,  if  depositors  instead 
of  borrowers,  would  be  the  first,  loudest  and  longest  to 


m 


Hit 


54 


Gathebrd  Waiflets. 


clamor  for  greater  dividends  which  as  borrowerg  they 
strive  to  diminish. 

The  savings  banks  of  Massachusetts  have  paid 
into  the  treasury  of  the  state  upwards  of  $70,000,000.00 
as  tax  since  it  was  first  levied  in  1862,  an  amount  ex- 
ceeding the  total  cost  of  management  of  the  banks  by 
upwards  of  twenty-eight  millions  of  dollars.  To  many 
these  startling  figures  will  come  as  a  surprise,  and 
they  will  help  to  explain  why  depositors  are  not  paid 
greater  dividends.  When  our  state  puts  such  a  bur- 
den upon  the  wage-earner — as  most  of  the  depositors 
are,  and  so  deliberately  discourages  habits  of  economy 
and  thrift — it  would  seem  as  if  it  had  abdicated  the 
legitimate  functions  of  a  state  and  joined  the  ranks  of 
aggrandizing  individuals  and  corporations. 

This  species  of  taxation  came  into  vogue  during 
the  Rebellion  of  18t)l-,5  to  replenish  the  treasury  to 
meet  the  needs  of  an  expensive,  extensive  and  lengthy 
war.  The  conditions  that  gave  it  birth  no  longer  exist 
nor  have  for  years,  and  this  burdensome  tax  imposed 
upon  the  toilers  of  the  state  cannot  be  too  soon  re- 
moved or  reduced.  Some  of  the  time  now  given  by 
the  legislature  to  freak  and  worthless  legislation  might 
better  be  given  to  a  matter  that  direi,cly  affects  the 
welfare  of  nearly  two  millions  of  depositors  and  indi- 
rectly every  citizen  of  the  state. 


THE  PROVINCE  OF  QUEBEC   AND   ITS 
PEOPLE. 


An     AODRESH      DeLIVEUED      REKCBE     THE      ABBOCIATE     BoABO     OF 

Trimity  College,   Wo&ckstek.  Mass.,  Monday 

EVENINO,    UeCEUBER    14,    1903. 


II 


DESPITE  the  works  of  History,  the  labors  of 
Historical  Societies,  hand  boohs  of  travel,  the 
array  of  summer  tourists,  and  the  wonderful 
enterprise  of  the  newspaper  world,  the  old  saying  that 
"not  one-half  of  the  world  knows,  how  the  other  half 
lives"  is  almost  as  true  to-day  as  it  was  in  the  distant 
past 

Stretching  away  to  the  north  of  the  New  England 
States  and  beyond  is  the  Province  of  Quebec,  a  coun- 
try that  is  a  veritable  terra  incognita  to  the  masses  of 
their  neighbors  to  the  south,  the  people  of  the  United 
States.  To  the  great  mtjority  of  these  the  name  re- 
calls only  a  very  limited  territory  where  winter  reigns 
during  the  greater  part  of  the  year,  devoid  of  interest, 
and  peopled  with  an  unprogressive  if  not  a  very  inferior 
race — a  down-trodden  people  whose  rights  are  denied 
them  by  an  exacting  and  oppressive  government  be- 
yond the  seas. 

A  little  time  given  to  a  consideration  of  this  portion 
of  the  western  hemisphere — -its  extent,  physical  char- 
acteristics, history,  and  the  everyday  life  of  the  peo- 
ple— may   not  be  without  interest  and  value  while 


f 

r' 

I : 


f  if  i 


56 


Gatherko  WxlFLKTa 


serving  to  make  neighbors  better  acquainted  with 
each  other  and  appreciated.  A  little  reflection  and 
thoughtful  consideration  will  also  teach  lessons  of  tol- 
eration and  justice  to  the  residents  and  law-making 
powers  in  the  United  States,  the  boasted  hind  of  "free- 
dom, equal  rights  and  justice,"  but  where  in  many 
things  these  high  sounding  and  seductive  claims  are 
not  so  happily  exemplitied  as  in  the  less  pretentious 
country  north  of  the  forty-fifth  parallel  of  latitude. 

Within  the  bounds  of  the  Province  of  Quebec  is 
embraced  a  territory  many  times  larger  than  all  New 
£ngland,  a  territory  rich  and  varied  in  scenic  beauty 
and  grandly  picturesque.  The  Appalachian  range  of 
mountains  extends  into  the  eastern  portion  of  the  prov- 
ince, and  the  Laurentian  chain  stretches  away  for  hun- 
dreds of  miles  in  the  northern  part,  contributing  variety 
and  grandeur  to  the  whole  country. 

Lakes  are  scattered  in  abundance  throughout  the 
Province,  which  gem  tho  landscape  and  primeval  for- 
est, and  which  well  reward  the  tourist,  artist  and 
sportsman  by  their  beauty,  extent  and  wealth  of 
gamest  fish.  Lake  St.  John,  having  an  area  of  260 
square  miles,  is  the  largest  Temiscamingue  is  ne.\t 
with  an  area  of  126  square  miles,  besides  numerous 
others  of  smaller  size  and  lesser  importance. 

The  mighty  St.  Lawrence,  ranking  with  the  largest 
rivers  of  the  world,  after  leaving  the  Great  Lakes  and 
the  awe-inspiring  Niagara  Falls,  lends  a  charm  to 
the  Thousand  Islauds,  and  cuts  in  twain  the  south- 
eastern portion  of  the  country  through  which  its 
mighty  volume  of  waters  flow  in  a  north-easterly  direc- 
tion for  hundreds  of  miles  until  lost  in  the  ocean  be- 
yond.    It  has  as  principal  tributaries  the  Ottawa,  tiOO 


The  Province  of  Quebec  and  Its  People.    57 

miles  long;  the  Ste.  Maurice,  400  miles  long;  the 
Richelieu,  which  is  the  outlet  of  Lake  Champlain ;  the 
famed  Saguenay,  which  performs  a  similar  service  for 
Lake  St  John  and  the  country  beyond ;  and  many  oth- 
ers of  lesser  note. 

Most  of  these  rivers  abound  in  scenery  unsui^assed 
elsewhere,  and  in  cascades  and  waterfalls  that  prove  a 
revelation,  surprise  and  delight  to  the  beholder.  The 
Falls  of  Shawinegan  in  the  Ste.  Maurice,  24  miles 
above  Three  Rivers,  are  l.iO  feet  high;  the  Falls  of 
the  Montmorency,  H  miles  from  Quebec,  are  2.50  feet, 
and  the  rocky  gorge  through  which  the  Saguenay 
pours  its  turbulent  waters  for  a  hundred  miles,  is  start- 
ling in  its  almost  perpendicular  elifla  of  rock  which 
kiss  the  clouds,  and  wliich  in  majesty,  grandeur  and 
extent  are  without  a  rival  in  the  world. 

In  the  more  nortiiern  parts  the  extensive  forests, 
stretching  away  to  the  land  of  perpetual  winter,  fur- 
nish a  home  for  an  abundance  of  large  game — bear, 
deer,  caribou  and  moose — which  is  eagerly  sought  by 
sportsmen  of  this  and  foreign  countries  for  the  pleas- 
ure and  benefit  which  reward  such  adventure  and  com- 
muning with  nature,  and  also  by  the  hunters  and 
trappers  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Fur  Company  and  the 
Courier  de  Bois,  for  the  peltry,  which  commands  good 
prices  and  meets  with  ready  sale  in  the  fur  markets  of 
the  world.  They  also  furnish  employment  and  re- 
munerative wages  to  vast  numbers  of  people  who  are 
employed  in  getting  out  timber  and  lumber  for  domes- 
tic need  and  export,  and  in  more  recent  times  for  wood 
pulp,  which  has  revolutionized  the  paper  making  of 
the  world. 

Throughout  the  southern  portion  the  climate  is  mild 


58 


GaTHRRKD   WAIFLBTa 


and  salubrious,  the  soil  is  stronf;  and  rich,  and  nearly 
all  the  varieties  of  fruit,  vegetables  and  cereals  of  the 
New  England  states  are  successfully  cultivated.  With 
increased  population,  and  the  passing  of  the  fur  bear- 
ing animals  in  the  older  settled  portion  of  the  Prov- 
ince, farming  became  the  principal  occupation  of  the 
people  outside  cities  and  the  more  populous  centres. 
JSurplus  hay,  horses,  cattle,  butter,  lumber  and  other 
products  of  land  and  forest  found  a  ready  market  in 
t' u  United  States  in  exchange  for  te.xtile  goods,  agri- 
cultural implements,  and  other  manufactured  articles, 
until  the  termination  of  the  Reciprocity  treaty  between 
the  two  countries  in  A.  D.  1S0.5,  after  the  close  of  the 
civil  war  in  the  United  States,  when  duties  were  im- 
posed upon  merchandise  passing  from  one  country  into 
the  other. 

During  the  existence  of  this  treaty  ther^  was  devel- 
oped a  very  close  bond  of  interest  and  friendship  be- 
tween the  people  of  the  two  countries,  and  the  senti- 
ment in  favor  of  annexation  was  deep  and  wide  spread; 
but  on  its  termination  in  1 86.5  a  new  policy  was  adopted 
and  developed  by  the  people  of  Canada  and  all  this  is 
now  changed. 

The  termination  of  the  Reciprocity  treaty  paved  the 
way  for  and  led  up  to  the  Confederation  of  the  Prov- 
inces into  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  the  establishment  of 
foreign  markets,  and  of  factories  for  the  production  of 
the  various  goods,  tools  and  merchandise  previously 
purchased  in  the  United  States.  This  has  proved  so 
successful  and  advantageous  for  the  people,  and  has  so 
fostered  and  stimulated  a  national  spirit,  that  now  but 
very  few  if  any  will  be  found  to  favor,  much  less  advo- 
cate union  with  the  United  States. 


The  Provincb  of  QfEBEO  and  Its  People.    59 

In  ai^ricnltural  districts,  particularly  in  the  Eastern 
Townships,  much  attention  is  now  given  to  the  manu- 
facture of  cheese  of  very  superior  quality,  large  quan- 
tities of  which  are  exported  and  find  a  ready  sale  in 
the  markets  of  England  and  on  the  Continent. 

To  properly  understand  anil  appreciate  the  condi- 
tions, customs  ami  practices  which  now  obtain  in  rural 
communities  in  the  older  settled  parts  of  tlie  Province 
where  the  descendants  of  the  original  settlers  over- 
whelmingly predominate,  which  so  savor  "f  medieval- 
ism, and  which  appear  so  quaint  and  fascinating  to 
the  outside  world,  it  will  be  desirable  to  go  back  to 
the  early  days  of  authentic  history  and  sketch  in  out- 
line some  of  the  leading  events  connected  with  the  ex- 
ploration, colonization,  and  the  establishment  of  gov- 
ernment in  this  northern  portion  of  the  New  World. 

In  enterprise,  daring  and  success  France  led  the  way. 
So  far  as  available  records  go  they  prove  that  the 
portion  of  Canada  (by  which  name  at  one  time  all  the 
British  possessions  in  North  America  were  designa- 
ted) now  known  as  the  Province  of  Quebec,  was 
discovered  during  the  early  years  of  the  Sixteenth  Cen- 
tury by  Jacques  Cartier,  who  sailed  up  the  St.  Law- 
rence river  in  A.  D.  l.'iH.'),  before  Puritanism  was 
known  in  the  world,  and  nearly  one  hundred  years  be- 
fore the  Puritans  set  foot  upon  the  soil  of  America. 
He  made  othei  voyages  the  following  and  subsequent 
years,  when  he  devoted  more  time  to  exploration  and 
acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  country  and  its  strange 
people.  Other  French  explorers  subsequently  visited 
these  shores  before  the  coming  of  Samuel  de  Cham- 
plain  in  A.  D.  1608,  who  established  a  colony  at  Sta- 
dacona,  where  the  City  of  Quebec  now  is. 


Ill 


60 


GitTIIRKKU    WaIPLRTM. 


The  heart  of  France  then  thrill>«d  with  missionary 
zeal  and  many  devotetl  priests  acc-oropanied  these  col- 
onists to  impart  the  blessin^fs  of  relif(ion,  spiritual 
comfort,  and  gui'iHuce.  Many  missionaries  of  noble 
birth  and  liif^host  uttainnieutH  also  left  behind  station 
and  place  in  tlieir  native  land  an<l  devoted  their  lives 
to  the  elevation  of  the  red  man  from  the  depths  of 
paganism  anti  idolatry  to  the  heights  of  Christianity. 
These  apostolic  men,  in  obedience  to  the  command  of 
the  Master,  buried  themselves  in  the  wilderness  and 
spent  the  rest  of  their  lives  amid  scenes  of  8<)ualor  and 
filth,  in  deprivation  and  suffering,  even  heroically 
meeting  death  in  the  discharge  of  their  sacred  duties. 
Words  are  not  necessary  to  add  to  the  pathos  of  such 
lives  as  are  recorded  in  the  "Jesuit  Itelations"  by  the 
pen  of  Rev.  Ennemond  Masse,  8.  J. :  "  This  life  is 
without  order  an<l  without  daily  fare,  without  bread, 
without  salt,  and  often  without  anything;  always 
moving  on  and  changing;  in  the  wind,  in  the  air,  and 
in  bad  weather;  for  a  roof,  a  wretched  cabin;  for  a 
couch,  the  earth ;  for  rest  and  quiet,  odors,  cries  and 
songs ;  for  medicine,  hunger  and  hard  work." 

They  sought  not  the  plaudits  of  men,  yet  the  pens 
of  our  greatest  historians  and  poets  have  embalmed 
their  memory  in  the  minds  and  hearts  of  a  grateful 
posterity,  and  recorded  their  heroic  achievements  for 
God  and  civilization  upon  the  brightest  pages  of  his- 
tory and  literature.  The  heroic  deeds,  sacrifices  and 
sufferings  of  Le  Caron,  Brebouf,  Daniel,  Lallemant, 
J;  nes,  liasles,  and  unnumbered  others  of  their  com- 
panions, together  with  the  devotion,  privation  and  toil 
of  the  sainted  women  who  sacrificed  all  that  the  world 
holds  dear  to  aid  in  the  good  work,  are  as  a  luminous 


The  Provinok  or  Qdebko  axd  Ith  People.    61 

cloud  of  inspiration,  triumph  »nd  glory,  wb'ch  will 
continue  to  reflect  lustre  upon  their  nationality,  their 
religion  and  their  adopted  country  until  the  end  of 
time. 

The  colonists  brought  with  them  deep  religious 
conviction  and  love  for  the  Church  of  their  fathers,  in 
which  they  were  born  and  reared.  To  them  a  good 
life  was  more  important  than  honors  and  riches.  In 
their  every  day  life  they  exemplified  the  Christian 
virtues  and  squared  their  conduct  by  the  Golden 
Rule.  When  differences  arose  between  them  they 
were  usually  settled  by  arbitration,  or  by  their  parish 
priest  and  spiritual  guide,  and  such  decisions  were 
cheerfully  accepted  as  final  without  violence  to  Chris- 
tian charity.  However  humble  their  lot,  they  ever 
strove  to  make  their  Church  attractive  and  worthy  the 
Divine  Presence.  They  could  not  afford  marble  stat 
uary  for  its  adornment,  and  so  casts  frorj  the  works 
of  the  masters,  of  the  Holy  Family,  an  Apostle,  patron 
saint,  or  other  religions  subjects,  v/ere  procured  to  em- 
bellish it  and  make  its  teachings  more  realistic  and 
lasting.  During  the  winter  season,  and  in  the  far 
north  where  natural  flowers  could  not  be  obtained, 
artificial  flowers  were  substituted  for  decorating  the 
altitr.  No  effort  was  spared  to  follow  the  full  and 
beautiful  ceremonial  of  the  Church  according  to  the 
Roman  ritual,  as  well  as  the  customs  of  the  Church  in 
motherland,  and  many  of  these  are  faithfully  ob- 
served by  their  descendants  and  successors  to  this 
day,  some  of  which  will  be  noticed  later. 

The  enterprise  and  success  of  the  people  of  France 
in  colonization  in  North  America,  and  of  other  nations 
in  other  parts  of  the  Western  Hemisphere,  aroused  the 


6S 


GATIIEKrO  Waiflktb. 


jesloasy  of  Enf(l«n<l  and  stimulated  to  activity  the 
national  traits  of  arrogfance,  conquest,  af^j^randizemeiit 
and  domination.  The  people  of  Knjtland  at  that 
time  were  so  far  behind  in  the  race  with  the  nations 
of  Continental  Kurope,  and  so  little  understood  the 
work  of  successful  colonization,  which  they  were 
prompted  to  undertake  throui^h  jealousy  because  of 
the  success  of  other  nations,  that  tlmir  Hrst  attempts 
in  Maine,  Massachusetts  and  \'ir)i;inia  were  rank  fail- 
ures. The  Knglish  settlers  seemed  better  fitted  for 
the  life  of  pirates  and  the  practice  of  robbery,  rapine 
and  bloodshed  than  the  less  exciting  and  more  liumane 
life  of  the  colonists  from  other  countries.  In  this  day 
of  civilization  and  enli);htenment,  when  so  much  in- 
cense is  burned  at  the  shrine  of  Anglo-Saxonism,  this 
may  seem  to  some  a  bold  and  unwarranted  charge,  but 
an  appeal  to  the  historj-  of  the  times  will  amply  verify 
its  truthfulness. 

We  have  only  to  recall  the  Royal  robberies  of  the 
times — Cathedrals,  Monastarics,  educational  and  elee- 
mosynary institutions  and  others — and  the  bloody  his- 
tory of  the  fleets  of  piratical  vessels  (itted  out  in 
England  to  prey  upon  the  commerce  of  the  world,  the 
brutality  of  the  buccaneers  of  which  Claud  Duval, 
Jack  Cade  and  Captain  Kind  are  types,  and  the  blood- 
curdling records  of  a  Coote,  Child,  Drake,  Hawkins 
and  lialeigh — some  of  whose  piratical  triumphs  were 
shared  with  royalty  and  were  rewarded  with  the  hon- 
ors of  knighthood — to  realize  a  striking  picture  of  the 
times,  and  of  the  ethics  governing  and  animating 
those  seated  in  high  places  of  government,  and  even  up- 
on the  throne  itself.  For  the  present  we  must  be  con- 
tent with  the  testimony  of  an  English  historian  who 


The  Provinck  or  Qdmmi  and  It*  Pkoplk.    63 

will  not  b«  kccuaed  of  biu  or  prejudice,  but  who  un- 
like too  many  of  his  Bucceason  who  endeavor  to 
apologize  for,  explain  away,  or  altogether  omit  the 
unpalatable  truths  of  the  times,  has  the  honesty  to  ad- 
mit them  in  all  their  repulsive  bideousness. 

After  going  into  the  subject  of  pirates  and  piracy 
in  England  to  very  considerable  length,  the  vast 
amounts  realissei)  tiierefrom,  and  the  adulation  and 
h(mor8  heaped  upon  the  successful  marauders  and  mu^ 
derers,  Mauaulay  say.^ : 

"The  Indian  Ucean,  meanwhile,  swarmed  with 
pirates  of  whose  rapacity  and  cruelty  frightful  stories 
were  told.  Many  of  these  men,  it  was  said,  came  from 
the  North  American  Colonies,  and  carried  back  to 
these  colonies  the  spoils  gained  by  crime.  Even  the 
Puritans  of  New  Eugland,  who  in  sanctimonious  aus- 
terity snrpasHcd  even  their  brethren  in  Scotland,  were 
ai'cused  of  conniving  at  the  wickedness." 

This  quotatiou  also  throws  an  interesting  side  light 
upon  the  character  of  some  of  the  New  England  colo- 
nists now  so  generally  praised  and  even  apotheosiised. 

Jealous  of  the  growth  of  the  French  colonies,  and 
of  the  success  of  the  black-robe  in  converting  the  abo- 
rigines to  Christianity,  the  British  colonists  were  ever 
on  the  alert  to  discover  opportunity  for  plunder,  when 
an  unprovoked  attack  would  be  made.  The  mis- 
sionary being  the  special  object  of  their  hatred  was 
treated  with  great  indignity  and  not  infreiiuently 
slain,  the  people  butchered,  the  settlement  robbed, 
and  what  could  not  be  carried  away  was  given  to  the 
flames. 

It  is  worthy  of  note  that  in  the  first  conflict  between 
the  English  and  French  on  this  continent  the  English 


II 


64 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


were  the  aggressors.  In  1613  the  manrading  free- 
booter, Argall,  sailed  from  Virginia  to  the  coast  of 
Maine,  where  he  attacked  and  destroyed  the  French 
settlement  of  Ste.  Savenr,  now  Mount  Desert,  killing 
Brother  Gabriel  dn  Thet,  and  giving  to  the  flames 
such  booty  as  he  could  not  carry  away.  Thus  was 
shed  the  first  blood  that  flowed  so  copiously  and 
crimsoned  the  soil  through  so  many  subsequent  years 
as  a  result  of  bigoted  intolerance  and  unreasoning  hate. 
Later  writers  have  endeavored  to  apologize  for  if  not 
condone  the  crime  of  Argall  by  saying  that  he  was  but 
one  of  the  common  herd  of  freebooters  and  outlaws  of 
the  time,  without  authority  for  the  marauding  expedi- 
tion, and  that  his  conduct  would  not  be  approved  by 
those  in  authority.  To  prove  that  this  is  but  special 
pleading,  untruthful  and  in  harmony  with  the  attempt 
very  generally  made  during  all  the  years  since  to  gloss 
over  the  noted  short  comings  and  crimes  of  the  early 
English  settlers  in  this  country,  we  have  but  to  recall 
the  facts  that  Argall,  in  obedience  to  the  orders  of  liis 
superiors,  soon  afterwards  plundered  and  destroyed  the 
French  settlements  at  Ste.  Croix,  Port  Royal,  and  other 
places,  and  that  when  he  returned  to  England  later  he 
was  rewarded  by  being  appointed  Deputy  Governor  of 
Virginia  in  1617,  succeeding  to  the  office  of  Governor 
soon  after. 

Such  brutality  and  devastation  was  continued  during 
many  generations  without  interruption  or  remon- 
strance from  those  charge<l  with  the  affairs  of  govern- 
ment, and  too  often  it  was  instigated  by  them,  but  we 
must  be  content  with  the  recital  of  one  other  instance, 
not  only  because  of  its  fiendish  atrocity  but  also  be- 
cause it  had  its  origin  and  endorsement  in  the  state  of 


Thb  Province  of  Qukbec  and  Its  People.    65 

Massachusetts,  to  which  honor  and  praise  is  now  so 
generally  and  bountifully  given. 

In  A.  D.  1646,  at  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  Ab- 
naki  Indians,  Father  Gabriel  DruiUettes,  S.  J.,  was  sent 
by  his  Superior  from  Sillery  near  Quebec  to  establish 
a  Mission  on  the  river  Kennebec. 

He  left  Sillery  August  29, 1646,  for  his  destination, 
and  so  far  as  known  to  history  he  was  the  first  white 
man  who  ever  penetrated  the  unbroken  wilderness  from 
the  St  Lawrence  into  the  wilds  of  central  Maine.  He 
journeyed  to  his  destination  by  the  same  waterways  in 
part  traversed  by  Benedict  Arnold  and  his  detachment 
of  Continental  soldiers  to  attack  Quebec  more  than  one 
hundred  years  afterwards,  and  which  were  then  well 
known.  He  located  at  Narantsouk,  now  Norridge- 
wock,  where  he  erected  his  mission  cross  and  was  soon 
surroundei!  by  a  large  congregation  of  peaceful  con- 
verts and  neophytes. 

This  Mission  was  continued  very  successfully  for 
nearly  eighty  years,  when  the  Missionary  then  in 
charge  was  butchered  and  the  Mission  destroyed  by 
zealots  from  the  English  Colonists  of  Massachusetts. 

The  New  England  Courant,  August  24th,  1 724,  says : 
"On  Saturday  last  arrived  Captain  Johnson  Harman 
from  his  expedition  against  the  Indians  at  Norridge- 
wock,  and  brought  with  him  28  scalps,  one  of  which  is 
Father  Rasles,  their  priest" 

And  in  "Massachusetts  Council  Records,"  VoL  8, 
page  71-2, and "Westbrook  Papers,"  page l.")."),  we  read: 

"At  a  Council  held  at  the  Council  Chamber  in  Bos- 
ton, on  Saturday,  August  22, 1724,  Present: 

"His  Honor  William  Dummer,  Esq.,  Lt  Gov.  Penn 
Townsend,  Add.  Davenport,  Adam  Winthrop,  Nathan 


66 


Gathered  "Waiflets. 


Bjrfleld,  Esqrs.,  John  Ckrk,  Esq.,  Daniel  Oliver,  Esq., 
Edward  Bromlleld,  Thomas  Fiteh,  Captain  Johnson 
Harman  being  arrived  from  the  Eastward  with  Indian 
scalps,  together  with  the  scalp  of  Sebastian  Kalle,  the 
Jesuit  and  Missionary  among  the  Norridgewock  Indi- 
ans and  the  Standard  of  y'  Sd  Tribe  of  Indians,  was 
directed  to  attend  in  Council,  and  there  gave  a  short 
narrative  of  his  march  to  Norridgewock  (with  four 
Companies  of  Soldiers  under  his  command)  and  of  his 
action  at  the  Sd  Place,  the  twelfth  instant,  where  he 
destroyed  a  great  number  of  the  enemy,  many  of  whom 
being  slain  or  drowned  in  the  river,  he  could  not  re- 
cover their  bodies. 

"His  Honor,  the  Lieutenant  Governor,  in  consider- 
ation of  the  extraordinary  service  of  j'*  Sd  Captain 
Harman,  presented  him  with  a  Commission  for  Lieu- 
tenant Colonel  of  his  Majesty's  forces  eastward  under 
the  command  of  ColL  Thomas  Westbrook.  Coll.  John- 
son Harman  made  solemn  oath  that  the  twenty-seven 
scalps  above  mentioned  (which  were  produced  in 
Council)  were  the  scalps  of  rebel  or  enemy  Indians 
slain  by  him  and  the  forces  under  his  command,  and 
that  they  had  taken  four  Indian  prisoners. 

"Pursuant  to  the  Act,  entitled  an  Act  to  encourage 
the  persecution  of  the  enemy  and  rebels : 

"Advised  and  consented  that  a  warrant  be  made  out 
to  the  treasurer  to  pay  unto  y*  Sd.  Coll.  Johnson  Har- 
man, the  sum  of  four  hundred  and  Ave  pounds  for 
twenty-seven  Indian  scalps,  and  the  further  sum  of 
twenty  pounds  for  four  Indian  prisoners  slain  and 
taken  as  aforesaid;  y'  Sd  sum  to  be  by  him  distrib- 
ted  to  the  officers  and  soldiers  concerned  therein,  as  y* 
Sd  Act  directs. 


The  Province  of  Quebec  and  Its  People.    67 

"ColL  Johnson  Harman  likewise  made  oath  that 
the  other  scalp  was  that  of  Sebastian  BaUe,  a  Jesuit, 
who  appeared  at  the  head  of  the  Indians  and  obsti- 
nately resisted  the  forces,  wounding  seven  of  the  Eng- 
lish and  resolutely  refusing  to  give  or  take  quarter." 

Pursuant  therefore  to  a  resolve  of  the  General  As- 
sembly passed  at  their  session  begun  and  held  the  13th 
of  July,  1720,  in  the  words  following,  viz.: 

"This  Court  being  credibly  informed  that  Mons. 
lialle,  the  Jesuit  residing  among  the  Eastern  Indians, 
has  not  only  on  several  occasions  of  late  affronted  His 
Majesty's  Government  of  this  Province,  but  has  also 
been  the  incendiary  that  has  instigated  and  stirred  up 
these  Indians  to  treat  His  Majesty's  subjects  settling 
there  in  the  abusive,  insolent,  hostile  manner  that  they 
have  done. 

"Resolved,  that  a  premium  of  one  hundred  pounds 
be  allowed  and  paid  out  of  the  Public  Treasury  to  any 
persons  that  shall  apprehend  y*  Sd  Jesuit  within  any 
part  of  this  Province  and  bring  him  to  Boston  and 
render  him  to  justice. 

"Advised  and  consented  that  warrant  be  made  out 
to  the  treasurer  to  pay  unto  y*  Sd  ColL  Johnson  Har^ 
man  the  above  Sd  sum  of  one  hundred  pounds  for  his 
service  in  the  destruction  of  y*  Sd  Sebastian  Ralle, 
y*  Sd  sum  to  be  divided  among  the  officers  and  sol- 
diers, as  13  directed  in  the  Act  for  encouraging  the 
persecution  of  the  Indian  enemy,  etc." 

Such  was  the  exx)erienee,  and  too  often  such  was  the 
fate,  of  the  devoted  missionary,  fired  with  religious 
zeal,  who  left  kith  and  kin  and  sacrificed  all  the  allure- 
ments of  the  world  to  bring  the  light  of  the  gospel  and 
the  blessings  of  civilization  to  the  savages  in  the  wil- 


M 


m 


r 


lilt 


•J  I 

I 


68 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


demese — and  such  is  a  picture  of  the  bigotry  and  intol- 
erance of  the  times — the  malevolence  of  the  people, 
and  an  illustration  of  the  perversion  of  history. 

France  meanwhile  pushed  the  work  of  exploration, 
evangelization  andcolonization — her  conquests  of  peace, 
Christianity  and  civilization  extended  westward  to  the 
Mississippi,  south  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  in  the 
far  north  as  far  as  Hudson  Bay,  whither  the  Kev. 
Charles  Albanel,  8.  J.,  another  of  the  heroic  band  of 
devoted  missionaries,  accompanied  by  two  companions 
and  six  Indians,  made  a  tour  of  exploration  and  obser- 
vation in  A.  D.  1671-2,  going  overland  through  an 
nnbroken  wilderness  from  Quebec,  to  learn  the  nature 
of  the  otrjntry,  the  number  of  the  aborigines,  their 
habits,  disposition  and  needs.  Such  enterprise  and 
success  stimulated  the  worst  passions  of  the  English 
people,  who  continued  to  meet  this  conquest  of  peace 
and  Christianity  with  determined  opposition,  persecu- 
tion, and  open  warfare,  which  were  persisted  in  from 
their  earliest  settlement  in  the  country  until  victory 
crowned  their  efforts  by  the  overthrow  of  France  upon 
this  continent  in  A.  D.  17.')9  on  the  plains  of  Abraham, 
which  was  ratified  and  confirmed  by  the  Treaty  of 
Paris  in  A.  D.  1763. 

Meanwhile  the  persecuting  people  of  the  British  col- 
onies were  in  turn  made  to  feel  the  iron  heel  of  des- 
potism of  the  Mother  Country,  but  less  for  religious 
hate  and  animosity  than  for  revenue,  aggrandizement 
and  dominion,  and  this  led  to  rebellion  and  bloodshed 
a  few  years  later  in  177.*>.  At  this  juncture  in  their 
affairs  the  people  of  the  thirteen  colonies  in  revolt 
very  naturally  supposed  that  the  people  of  Canada, 
smarting  under  the  sting  of  recent  defeat  and  over- 


The  Province  of  Qdebeo  and  Its  People.    69 

throw,  would  join  with  them  to  combat  a  common 
enemy.  England,  fearing  this  and  to  conciliate  them 
and  win  their  friendship  and  aid,  as  a  matter  of  policy 
and  not  of  principle,  enacted  the  "Quebec  Act,"  which 
many  statesmen  consider  the  greatest  act  of  diplomacy 
ever  recorded  upon  the  pages  of  history.  Under  its 
conditions  the  original  settlers  in  Canada  were  guaran- 
teed all  the  rights  and  privileges,  civil  and  religious, 
hitherto  enjoyed  by  them  under  the  fostering  and  pro- 
tecting laws  of  France,  save  allegiance  to  the  Crown — 
in  fact  creating  an  anomaly  among  the  governments 
of  the  world,  a  British  dependency  under  the  I'sligion, 
laws,  language  and  customs  of  her  bitterest  enemy  and 
rival — rights  and  privileges  which  were  openly  de- 
nounced, violently  opposed,  and  denied  to  Catholics — 
even  at  the  expense  of  life  itself — in  the  British  Isles 
and  other  British  dependencies  where  the  iniquitous 
penal  laws  were  still  in  force  in  all  their  barbarous 
cruelty  and  repulsiveness. 

While  this  restoration  of  rights  had  a  re-assuring 
and  conciliating  effect  upon  the  people  of  Canada,  and 
tended  to  win  their  friendship  and  allegiance  to  the 
crown  of  England,  the  motive  that  prompted  it  was 
apparent  to  alL 

Writers  of  the  time  assert  that  the  Canadian^  were 
in  hearty  sympathy  with  the  work  undertaken  i  the 
revolted  colonists  to  throw  off  the  galling  yoke  of 
England,  and  that  they  would  very  probably  have  co-op- 
eruted  with  them  to  aid  in  driving  the  Union  Jack  and 
all  that  it  symbolizes,  from  the  Northern  Hemisphere, 
ending  British  dominion  therein,  and  extending  the 
boundary  of  the  United  States  to  the  most  northern 
limit  of  the  continent,  but  for  the  restraining  influence 


Hi 


70 


Gathered  WAiFLETa 


of  their  clergy  and  the  renewed  ontbreak  of  bigotry 
and  intolerance  with  which  the  revolted  colonists  de- 
nounced the  enactment  and  promulgation  of  the  Que- 
bec Act,  and  which  found  noisy  expression  in  their 
broadsides,  pamphlets,  meeting-houses,  and  public 
gatherings  throughout  the  colonies.  This  recrudes- 
cence of  proscription,  intolerance,  bigotry  and  hate 
was  already  crystalized  into  law  in  many  of  the  colonies 
where  it  was  a  penal  offence  for  a  Catholic  priest  to 
enter,  and  even  a  capital  offence  if  he  performed  any 
of  his  sacred  functions.  Granting  their  rights  to  the 
people  of  Canada  by  England  by  the  Quebec  Act  in- 
tensified this  feeling  and  led  to  violent  opposition  and 
protest  on  the  part  of  the  colonists,  whose  bigotry, 
intolerance  and  iniquitous  laws  against  Catholics  were 
well  known  in  Canada.  Many  students  of  history  now 
recognize  the  enactment  and  promulgation  of  this  Act 
as  the  chief  cause,  if  not  the  only  cause,  in  the  last 
analysis,  which  precipitated  the  contest  and  resort  to 
arms  on  the  part  of  the  colonists  against  the  mother 
country,  and  as  the  astute  measure  which  secured  Can- 
ada and  all  the  vast  territory  embraced  under  this 
name  to  the  British  crown. 

The  records  of  this  blind,  unreasoning  bigotry  and 
hate  which  now  in  a  more  enlightened  and  tolerant 
age  seem  so  out  of  place,  and  which  cost  the  revolted 
colonists  the  loss  of  a  valuable  ally,  large  quantities 
of  much  needed  military  stores,  and  vast  territory,  are 
not  now  often  allowed  to  see  the  light  of  day,  and 
they  will  have  to  be  sought  with  difficulty  hidden 
away  in  the  archives  of  the  distant  past 

In  the  Suffolk  County  (Mass.)  resolves  sent  to  the 
Continental  Congress  which  assembled  in  Philadel- 


Tub  Province  of  Qcebeo  and  Its  People.    71 

phia  in  1774,  we  read:  "That  the  eBtablisbinent  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  religion  and  French  law  in  Can- 
ada ia  dangerous  in  the  extreme  to  the  Protestant  relig- 
gion  and  the  civil  rights  and  liberties  of  all  America. 
Therefore  we  are  obliged  to  take  all  proper  measures 
for  our  security." 

And  this  congress  when  it  assembled  in  Philadel- 
phia appointed  a  committee  consisting  of  Lee,  Living- 
ston and  ,Tay,  to  frame  an  address  to  the  people  of 
England  stating  their  position  and  grievances  and 
demanding  a  remedy.  The  notorious  bigot,  John  Jay, 
whose  descendants  inherit  and  manifest  his  bigotry 
and  intolerance  whenevei  opportunity  offero  even  down 
to  this  day,  was  made  chairman  of  this  committee,  and 
to  him  was  assigned  the  work  of  drafting  the  address. 
lie  could  not  let  such  a  good  opportunity  pass  without 
incorporating  in  ami  giving  e.xpression  to  the  general 
outcry  against  the  Quebec  Act,  which  was  so  in  har^ 
mony  with  his  ignorance,  bigotry  and  malevolence, 
which  he  did  in  the  following  language : 

"  Nor  can  we  suppress  our  astonishment  that  a  Brit- 
ish Parliament  should  ever  consent  to  establish  in  that 
country  a  Religion  that  has  deluged  your  island  in 
blood  and  dispersed  Impiety,  Bigotry,  Persecution, 
Murder  and  Rebellion  through  every  part  of  the 
World." 

Nor  can  the  Congress  which  approved  and  author- 
ized the  transmission  of  such  sentiments  and  brazen 
falsehood  be  held  less  culpable  or  blameworthy;  and 
yet,  in  their  hour  of  trial  and  distress,  these  same  men 
and  their  compatriots  were  not  slow  to  send  Franklin 
and  the  Catholic  Carroll  to  seek  the  aid  of  Catholic 
France,  without  which  they  and  their  cause  must  have 


S411 


■  *|ii 


78 


Oathkked  Waiflbt*. 


suffered  iffnoniinioui  defeat,  and  there  woald  now  be 
no  United  States  to  embellish  the  map  of  the  world. 

Facing  snch  hostile  speech  and  sentiment,  is  it  anj 
wonder  that  the  people  of  Canada  refused  to  hearken 
to  the  appeal  of  Franklin,  Chase  and  Carroll,  who  were 
sent  to  them  as  a  committee  to  secure  their  friendly 
co-operation?  Is  it  any  wonder  that  they  refused  to 
take  up  arms  for  a  people  who  were  so  openly  and 
avowedly  hostile  to  them  and  their  religion  ? 

It  is  true  that  soon  after  the  promulgation  of  the 
Quebec  Act,  and  the  use  of  such  violent  epithets 
against  it  to  the  crown  and  people  of  England  with- 
out avail,  as  the  time  drew  near  for  resort  to  arms 
the  Continental  Congress  prepared  an  "Address  to 
the  Inhabitants  of  Quebec,"  a  portion  of  which  is 
reproduced  to  show  the  change  of  tone  in  a  very  short 
space  of  time,  and  to  emphasize  the  duplicity  of 
human  nature: 

"  What  is  offered  you  by  the  late  Act  of  Parliament 

Liberty  of  Conscience  in  your  religion  ?  No.  God 
gave  it  to  you  and  the  temporal  powers  with  which 
you  have  been  and  are  connected  finally  stipulated  for 

your  enjoyment  of  it An  insolent  Ministry 

persuade  themselves  that  you  wiU  engage  to  take  up 
arma  by  becoming  tools  in  their  hands,  to  assist  them 
in  taking  that  freedom  from  us  treacherously  denied 

to  you We  are  too  well  acquainted  with  the 

Liberality  of  Sentimen:  'listinguishing  your  nation  to 
imagine  that  difference  of  Religion  will  prejudice  you 
against  a  hearty  Amity  with  us." 

And  again  lateranother  Address  was  sent  from  which 
the  following  extracts  are  taken :  "  We  percei  ved  the 
fate  of  the  Protestant  and  Catholic  Colonies  to   be 


TlIK   PlloviXCE  OK  Ql'EBEC  AND  1t»  PbOPLK.  V:! 

Btrungly  linked  toK<'tlici',  uiiil  tiiercfore  invite  you  to 
join  witli  us  in  rcHolving  to  be  Free,  uuil  in  I'ejucting, 
with  ili»<lain,  tlic  Fetters  of  Slavery,  however  artfully 
jtolishetl.  .  .  .  The  eiijoynient  of  your  very  religion, 
ill  the  present  system,  ilepends  on  a  Legislature  in 
whicli  you  have  no  Share,  iind  over  whieli  you  liave  no 
Control,  and  your  Priests  are  exposed  to  Expulsion, 
Banishment,  and  Ruin,  whenever  their  Wealth  and 
Possessions  furnisli  sufficient  Temptation.  We  are 
your  friends,  not  your  enemies." 

And  another  attempt  was  made  in  Novenil)er,  177o, 
when  the  Congress  appointed  Livingston,  Paine  and 
Langilon  Connnissioners  to  secure  tlieir  friendly  alli- 
ance. Some  of  their  instructions  were:  "  You  may 
assure  them  that  we  shall  hohl  their  rights  us  dear  as 
our  own.  Vou  may  and  are  liereliy  empowered  to  de- 
clare that  we  hold  saered  the  rights  of  Conscienee,  and 
that  we  shall  ni^ver  molest  them  in  the  free  enjoyment 
of  their  religion." 

But  all  elforts  to  seduce  them  from  their  loyalty  to 
the  British  crown  proved  fruitless.  They  were  iloubt- 
less  continued  in  their  loyalty  by  tin;  teaching  of  their 
church,  whicli  makes  it  a  grievous  sin  to  rebel  against 
lawfully  constituted  authority,  by  their  want  of  eonti- 
dence  in  the  professions  of  tlieir  hitherto  persecutors 
and  oppressors,  and  by  the  restoration  of  their  rights 
secured  to  them  by  that  greatest  Act  of  Diplomacy  — 
the  (Quebec  Act.  To  this  Great  Britain  doubtless  owes 
her  vast  possessions  in  the  Northern  Hemisphere  of 
the  Western  world  today  —  a  territory  greater  in  area 
than  that  of  the  United  States. 

This  far  seeing  legislation,  which  was  so  out  of 
harmony  with  the  bigotry,  intolerance,  injustice,  and 


74 


OATalBID  WAIVLITi. 


perseontion  of  the  times,  was  presented  in  tlie  Hon** 
of  Lords  by  Lord  Dartmouth,  May  2,  1774,  and  wai 
passed  withont  opposition  May  17. 

In  the  House  of  Commons  it  was  violently  assailed, 
but  being  a  royal  measure  and  demanded  by  the  exig- 
ences then  confronting  the  country  all  opposition  was 
without  avail  and  it  passed  that  body  June  13,  1774, 
received  the  royal  assent  June  22  following,  and  is 
known  in  law  as  14  Qeo.  Ill,  Cap.  83.  It  was  to  go  and 
went  into  effect  in  Canada  May  1,  1775. 

A  few  ultra-British  writers  of  uur  own  time,  blinded 
by  prejudice  and  who  live  in  the  distant  past,  strive 
in  vain  to  prove  that  England  was  then  actuated  solely 
by  a  desire  to  fulfil  treaty  obligations,  that  the  mut- 
terings  of  insubordination,  discontent  and  threats  of 
the  neighboring  colonies — which  soon  after  resulted  in 
open  warfare  and  independence— were  not  an  impelling 
motive,  that  the  government  of  England— King,  Lords 
and  Commons — were  imbeciles,  and  that  the  enactment 
and  promulgation  of  the  Act  was  a  great  mistake  from 
which  England  has  never  recovered. 

Becalliug  the  many  violated  treaties  recorded  against 
England  in  the  pages  of  history,  which  with  other 
things  huve  euraed  for  her  the  uucomplimeutary  title 
of  pertidious  Albion — her  iniquitous,  brutal  and  bru- 
talizing penal  laws  in  force  elsewhere  in  her  dominions 
against  the  co-religionists  of  the  Canadians,  the  need 
she  hud  for  a  friendly  people  in  this  distant  land  and 
a  friendly  harbor  to  land  her  army  and  military  stores 
and  the  concensus  of  history  bearing  upon  the  subject, 
we  may  dismiss  this  as  only  another  testimony  to  the 
intense  morbid  intolerance  and  prejudice,  long  since 
crystallized  into  a  national  trait,  which  warps  the  judg- 


The  Phuvince  or  Qi'Ebec  ani>  Its  I'f.opi-f..        Ti'i 

ment  uixl  rt'iulitrs  mi  iiiipiirtial  iiiiil  judicial  coiisidcrn- 
tion  of  tlie  fuct.s  of  history  iiiiposHibk",  and  now  .sm'li 
attempt  to  prove  tliat  Knuland  was  tlu-n  governed  by 
foolH  needs  no  otlier  answer  tlian  "tliere  are  none  so 
blind  as  those  who  will  not  see,"  and  none  so  i>;norant 
as  those  who  refuse  to  learn. 

Soon  after  the  conriuest,  French  rniif^ration  having 
practically  oeasid,  Kn^land  made  great  efforts  to  sup- 
plant the  French  population  by  liberally  subsidizing 
emigration  and  sending  over  large  numbers  of  British 
emigrants,  but  they  being  intolerant  and  full  of  bitter- 
nefc.j  toward  the  religion  of  the  inhabitants,  as  many, 
very  many  of  their  descendants  continue  to  the  pres- 
ent time,  as  is  too  painfully  evident,  they  would  not 
locate  amongst  nor  near  the  French  settlers  in  the 
older  portions  of  the  country  along  the  St.  Lawrence 
River,  but  betook  tlieinselves  to  that  portion  of  tin- 
country  now  known  as  the  Province  of  Ontario. 

.\fter  the  close  of  the  war  of  the  Revolution  a  con- 
siderable number  of  the  Uuteli  settlers  of  New  Amster- 
dam, deserters  from  the  ranks  of  the  Hessian  mer- 
cenaries, escaped  jtrisoners,  and  other  adventurous 
colonists  who  sw.dled  their  nund)ers,  emigrated  to 
Canada,  where  they  sought  and  obtained  generous 
bounty  —  upwards  of  !f:i,"),0()O,O00.0(),  vast  areas  of  land 
and  political  preferment  —  us  a  panacea  for  their 
loyalty  and  enterpiise.  These  latter  soon  after  organ- 
ized under  the  name  of  the  United  Empire  Loyalists, 
which  organization  their  descendants  still  find  it  profit- 
able to  perpetuate. 

Such  a  people  could  not  long  renuun  in  contentment 
ment  under  existing  laws,  and  being  turbulent  and  res- 
tive, they  so  pestered  and  annoyed  the  home  govern- 


I 


76 


Oatbuio  WAiruta. 


ment  with  oomplaint  and  ifflportunity  for  a  leparate 
govemment  and  different  laws  that  they  brought  about 
the  division  of  Canada  in  1791  into  two  parts,  which 
were  then  named  Lower  Canada  and  Upper  Canada, 
and  a  separate  parliament  was  constituted  in  the  latter 
when  the  British  code  became  their  law,  the  people  of 
Lower  Canada  remaining  under  their  then  existing 
form  of  govemment. 

Agitation  and  discontent  succeeded  agitation  and 
discontent  in  Upper  Canada,  and  envious  of  the  greater 
progress  and  success  of  the  people  of  the  older  prov- 
ince, they  succeeded,  with  the  aid  of  the  complaisant 
home  government,  in  elTecting  a  re-union  of  govern- 
ments in  1841,  when  they  became  known  as  Canada 
East  and  Canada  West  and  so  remained  until  merged 
by  the  confederation  of  the  various  provinces  in  1867 
into  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  when  they  were  named 
the  Province  of  Quebec  and  the  Province  of  Ontario, 
as  now  known. 

Here  now  is  seen  the  anomaly  of  two  provinces  as 
unlike  in  origin,  religion,  tastes  and  practices  as  can 
well  be  imagined,  yet  living  in  peace  and  friendly 
rivalry  beside  each  other,  and  owing  allegiance  to  a 
common  flag  to  which  both  are  devotedly  loyal. 

But  the  early  intolerance  and  antipathy,  founded  on 
race  and  religious  prejud'.ce,  baz  b&cn  and  is  an  impor- 
tant if  not  the  determining  factor  in  keeping  alive 
much  of  the  ancien  regime  in  the  Province  of  Quebec. 

In  many  of  the  rural  districts  of  this  province  old 
customs  and  quaint  practices  are  nearly  as  well  defined 
and  as  unique  today  as  in  the  days  when  first  intro- 
duced centuries  ago  under  the  fostering  care  of  the 
fieur  de  lis  of  France. 


The  Province  or  Quniir  and  Iti  Piopu.        77 

While  innovation  and  change  are  apparent  in  the 
cities  and  larger  centres  of  population,  doubtless  stim- 
ulated by  travel,  observation  and  interchange  of  ideas, 
by  a  mixed  population,  with  different  customs  and 
practices,  and  in  deference  to  modem  demands,  yet  in 
rural  communities  the  primitive  ways,  quaint  customs 
and  practices  of  early  times  still  obtain  —  and  this  is 
more  particularl;  tinr  luid  striking  in  the  Church,  in 
church  manageiiii'iit,  .^lis..'rttiii'^«N  and  practices. 

The  early  cclc  .ii-t  t  cini;  w^-li  instructed  in  their 
religion  and  \t-,y  obtMiiiiil  U>  it.-*  n  .airements  and  cus- 
toms, brou/;lit  /.'Ah  iln'iii  .1  Icni  wleJge  of  the  wealth 
and  beauty  uf  the  virni'j.iioji  of  tiie  Church;  and  the 
clergy  and  inissioi.:i,-ii  .  b»iug  well  schooled  in  and  ac- 
customed to  tlie  j,niiul'-  ',v,  Ij.  uuty  and  appropriateness 
of  the  Roman  ritupl,  ■■■  e  •  boukI'!.  to  give  added  mean- 
ing, beauty  and  sigiuiieaiice  to  every  Church  function 
by  full  adherence  to  and  observance  of  its  every  re- 
quirement —  to  give  outward  expression  and  emphasis 
to  the  interior  meaning. 

As  in  the  older  countries  where  the  Church  is  gov- 
erned by  canon  law,  the  lay  element  in  the  Province  of 
Quebec  is  recognized  and  accorded  its  proper  voice  in 
the  secular  affairs  of  the  Church.  On  the  formal  estab- 
lishment of  a  parish  by  the  Bishop,  the  congregation 
elect  three  members  who  are  known  as  Syndics  or 
MarguUliera  (church  wardens)  who  with  the  pastor 
constitute  the  Fabrique,  a  corporation  in  the  eye  of 
the  law,  a  board  of  management  of  the  temporalities 
of  the  Church  which  may  sue  and  be  sued.  One  of 
these  members  at  the  outset  is  elected  for  one  year, 
one  for  two,  and  one  for  three  year.s ;  one  retires  each 
year,  when  at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  parish  a  new 


78 


Qathebed  Waiflets. 


member  is  elected,  always  leaving  two  men  with  ex- 
perience to  continue  in  office.  In  long  years  of  experi- 
ence in  and  knowledge  of  the  workings  of  this  system 
not  a  single  case  of  friction  or  unpleasantness  is  re- 
called, and  the  knowledge  of  business  brought  to  bear 
in  the  matter  of  building,  repairing,  and  the  care  and 
management  of  churches,  convents,  schools  and  the 
like,  has  been  of  inestimable  benefit  and  value,  and  a 
great  lessening  of  the  burdens  borne  by  the  priests  in 
the  United  States. 

The  parisliioners  who  are  elected  to  this  board  are 
recognized  as  the  lay  head  of  the  parish,  and  corre- 
sponding honor  is  paid  to  them.  For  their  use  a  special 
pew  is  erected  upon  an  elevated  banc  or  platform 
apart  from  tlie  pews  and  at  the  side  of  the  church 
witliin  the  sanctuary  railing.  It  is  generally  more 
elaborately  constructed  than  the  other  pews,  is  sur- 
mounted by  a  canopy  or  Crucifix,  or  both,  and  is  pro- 
vided with  u  lighted  candle  at  each  end  during  Mass. 
The  member  in  liis  thi'  ri  ,ear  of  service  is  the  chair- 
man and  sits  at  tli'j  head  of  tlie  pew  and  always  takes 
precedence  over  tlie  other  members. 

After  the  singers  and  acolytes,  who  are  seated  within 
the  sanctuary,  thi^y  receive  the  Asperges  before  it  is 
bestowed  upon  tlie  i)eople;  on  Palm  Sunday  they  re- 
ceive tlie  paliiis  from  the  hands  of  the  priest  at  tlie 
sanctuary  rail,  and  they  take  precedence  at  all  func- 
tions of  the  Church  wherein  the  laity  have  part,  such 
as  formal  gatherings,  in  the  Fete  Dieu  procession  and 
other  church  functions,  escorting  the  Bishop  to  anti 
from  the  railway  station  on  the  occasion  of  his  visits, 
and  the  like. 

In  the  services  of  the  Church  in  rural  communities 


The  Phovinoi  of  Qubbbo  ahd  Its  People.       79 

only  the  Gregorian  music  is  sung  by  male  voices,  unless 
upon  exceptional  occasions.  The  singers,  gowned  in 
white  surplices,  sit  within  the  sanctuary  anu  sing  the 
alternate  parts.  Their  work  is  not  that  of  the  modem 
shrieking  soprano,  whose  dis-edifying  and  trilling 
efforts  seem  much  better  suited  to  divert  the  mind  and 
attention  of  the  hearers  than  to  inspire  devotion  and 
praise;  not  that  of  the  paid  tenor  who  is  content  with 
nothing  less  than  modern  operatic  airs,  but  is  from 
the  heart  —  sturdy,  unaffected,  devotional. 

During  the  month  of  May,  fete  days,  and  on  special 
occasions,  females  may  be  admitted  to  the  organ  loft 
in  the  gallery  and  allowed  to  take  part  in  the  singing. 
In  the  churches  of  the  cities  regular  choirs  of  mixed 
voices  now  sing,  and  figured  music  of  the  less  florid 
type  is  not  infrequently  performed. 

The  bell,  called  the  "tongue  of  the  Church,"  sounds 
out  the  Angelus  morning,  noon  and  night,  at  the  eleva- 
tion, at  all  Masses,  baptisms  and  weddings ;  at  a  death 
it  tolls  the  age  of  the  dect-iised,  and  as  soon  as  the 
funeral  cortege  comes  within  sight  of  the  church  its 
solemn  knell  adds  another  to  the  mournful  solemni- 
ties of  the  occasion.  When  tlie  Angdus  bell  sounds 
tlie  faithful  who  arc  working  in  the  fields  turn  toward 
the  church,  uncover  their  heads,  and  recite  the  pre- 
scribed prayers.  This  is  well  illustrated  by  the  cele- 
brated painting  by  Millet. 

The  Agafse,  a  custom  introduced  in  Apostolic  times, 
is  still  observed.  A  basket  and  napkins,  provided  by 
the  Fabrique,  or  parish,  are  taken  home  by  some  mem- 
ber who  returns  thorn  the  following  Sunday  morning 
with  a  sufiicient  number  of  loaves  of  bread  which, 
when  cut  into  small  cubes  or  pieces,  will  be  sufScient 


80 


Gathered  Waifiets. 


for  all  iiiemhi'is  of  the  congregation  to  rcceivi-  one. 
Tliese  loaves  are  placed  upon  a  small  table  in  the  sanc- 
tuary before  tile  altar  where  the  priest  l)less(3s  them 
before  Mass.  The  loaves  are  then  reuio\eil  to  the 
sacristy  by  the  saiM-istau,  sexton,  or  beaille,  where  they 
are  cut  into  small  pieces  ami  ilistributed  to  the  eongre 
gation  iluring  Mass  —  to  the  Syndics  tirst  and  then  to 
the  rest  of  th<'  congregation.  Each  person  recei\  ing  a 
portion  devoutly  makes  the  sign  of  the  cross  with  it 
and  then  consumes  it.  After  Mass  the  basket  and  naj)- 
kins  are  taken  away  by  the  person  who  brought  them 
and  the  brca<l  and  deliv,  red  to  his  nearest  neighbor, 
who  performs  a  similar  service  the  following  Sunday, 
who  returns  basket  and  napkins  to  his  neighbor,  and 
.so  the  work  goes  continnidly  on  throughout  the  entire 
parish  without  interruption. 

The  origin  of  this  custom  has  received  various  ex- 
planations. Some  writers  contend  that  it  had  its  ori- 
gin in  the  brotherly  gatherings  and  feasts  of  the  early 
Christians  (1  Cor.  XI),  some  as  typifying  the  charity 
with  which  Christians  should  feed  the  pool-,  others  the 
miraculous  nmltiplieation  of  the  Iouncs  and  fishes, 
which  typify  the  Blessed  Eucharist,  etc. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  pain  benit  is  a  living  reality 
in  the  church  of  the  huhitanta  and  its  abandonment 
would  be  to  them  a  sail  innovation  and  omission  from 
the  ceremonial  of  tht  Church. 

At  the  Akix'iijc.i  the  priest,  preceded  by  the  cross 
bearer,  acolytes,  and  acconii)anied  by  an  assistant  who 
carries  the  holy  water,  makes  the  circuit  of  the  church, 
which  gives  an  added  importance,  impressiveness  anci 
solemnity  to  the  ceremony  over  the  more  abridged  and 
perfunctory  blessing  from  within  the  sanctuary. 


The  Psoviwce  of  Quebec  amd  Its  People.    81 

A  parish  Mass  is  o£Fered  by  the  parish  priest  in  the 
springtime  to  invoke  the  blessing  of  God  upon  the 
seeds  about  to  be  cast  into  the  eariih,  and  it  is  no 
infrequent  occurrence  to  hear  the  announcement  from 
the  pulpit  that  some  member  of  the  parish,  sometimes 
named  and  sometimes  nameless,  has  arranged  for  a 
similar  Mass — and  it  sometimes  happens  that  several 
are  provided  for  and  announced  at  the  same  time. 

Again,  Masses  are  offered  for  an  abundant  har- 
vest, for  rain,  for  fair  weather,  relief  from  war,  epi- 
demics, sickness,  for  members  of  a  family,  for  God's 
blessing  upon  the  parish,  and  the  like. 

Great  solemnity  is  given  to  all  the  feast*  and  festi- 
vals of  the  Church,  but  to  none  more  than  the  fete 
Dieu,  or  Corpus  Christi.  For  days  and  weeks  previ- 
ous old  and  young  vie  with  each  other  in  planting 
evergreen  trees  along  the  route  of  the  procession, 
often  forming  their  tops  into  arches  and  decorating 
them  with  mottoes  anJ  banners.  Special  attention  is 
bestowed  upon  the  repository  and  the  best  that  the 
parishioners  can  bring  is  none  too  good  to  add  to  its 
beauty  and  attractiveness.  Its  masses  of  evergreen 
and  wealth  of  flowers,  rendered  more  beautiful  by 
scores  of  lighted  candles,  make  an  imposing  mid- 
summer spectacle.  Preceding  the  canopy,  which  is 
usually  borne  by  four  of  the  patriarchs  of  the  parish, 
little  girls  dressed  in  white  and  crowned  with  gar- 
lands strew  wild  flowers  in  the  pathway  from  baskets 
suspended  from  their  necks  by  brilliant  colored  rib- 
bons. The  scene  is  imposing  and  the  devoutness  of 
all  very  impressive  and  edifying. 

Midnight  Mass  is  always  celebrated  on  Christmas 
eve,  for  which  great  preparations  are  also  made  to 


82 


Gathered  Waiflbts. 


render  the  occasion  worthy  of  the  Fesst  of  the  Nativ- 
ity. The  church  is  always  tilled  to  overflowing  with 
devout  worshippers,  some  of  whom  come  aany  miles, 
and  all  enter  with  zest  into  the  spirit  of  the  joyful 
season. 

The  priest  makes  an  annual  visit  to  every  family  in 
his  parish,  accompanied  by  one  or  more  of  the  %?»• 
dies,  when  he  takes  an  official  census,  inquires  after 
their  spiritual  condition,  and  other  matters  of  impo^ 
tance,  in  accordance  with  a  prescribed  form  sent  out  by 
the  Bishop.  This  serves  to  more  closely  unite  pastor 
and  people  and  furnishes  reliable  statistics  of  his  parish- 
ioners and  parish. 

In  rural  communities  the  priest  receives  for  his  prin- 
cipal compensation  regular  tithes  which  the  law  im- 
poses upon  every  husbandman,  the  payment  of  which 
can  be  enforced  by  process  of  law  when  necessary  as 
other  taxes  may  be  collected. 

With  few  exceptions,  such  as  corn  and  potatoes, 
every  farmer  must  pay  into  the  granary  of  Momieur 
le  Cure  every  twenty-sixth  bushel  of  the  crops  with 
which  he  may  be  blessed.  This  tithe  or  tax  is  chee^ 
fuUy  and  generously  paid  as  a  just  and  reasonable  con- 
tribution to  the  maintenance  and  decency  of  worship 
of  the  God  who  thus  blesses  with  bountiful  harvests. 
In  extensive  farming  communities  it  will  readily  be 
surmised  that  the  priest's  granary  is  the  largest  and 
best  filled  of  alL  Under  French  law  all  who  are  bap- 
tized into  the  Catholic  Church,  but  who  do  not  go  to 
church,  or  who  may  have  joined  and  attend  the  Protes- 
tant church,  must  pay  such  tithes  to  the  parish  priest, 
and  they  can  be  compelled  to  do  so  by  law  until  they 
publicly  abjure  t!ie  faith  according  to  the  ritual  pres- 


Thb  Province  of  Quebec  and  It8  People.    83 

cribed  by  the  Church  for  such  abjuration  and  apostasy. 

In  former  times,  before  the  advent  of  the  newspaper 
and  telegraph,  the  news  of  the  parish  and  such  outside 
news  as  might  come  by  some  traveller  or  emigrant, 
was  rehearsed  before  the  dispersal  of  the  congregation 
after  Mass,  and  until  very  recent  times  the  old  custom 
survived  that  no  law  enacted  by  the  government  had 
binding  force  until  publicly  read  and  proclaimed 
(called  homologated)  from  the  parish  church  door 
after  High  Mass  on  a  Sunday  or  Holy  day  of  obli- 
gation by  the  sheriff  of  the  county  or  other  duly 
deputed  olRcer. 

Another  custom  in  strange  contrast  with  the  observ- 
ance  of  the  Puritan  Sabbath  is  the  sale  of  farm  pro- 
ducts, grain,  grass-seed,  fruit,  vegetables,  lambs,  pigs, 
fowls,  honey  and  the  like,  at  auction  after  Mass,  at  the 
church  door. 

An  explanation  of  this  custom  is  found  in  the  long 
distances  many  of  the  parishioners  live  away  from  the 
church  in  all  directions— six,  eight,  ten,  and  even  in 
some  cases  twenty  miles,  while  others  living  in  an 
opposite  direction  might  be  in  need  of  such  things 
without  knowing  where  to  obtain  them,  besides  saving 
long  journeys  over  bad  roads  and  much  valuable  time 
during  the  busy  season. 

The  cemetery  usually  joins  the  church,  and  there 
seems  to  be  something  appropriate  in  having  the  dead 
gathered  about  the  altar  before  which  they  worshipped 
in  life,  and  where  their  remains  will  be  near  their  rel- 
atives when  they  assemble  to  participate  in  the  offices 
of  the  Church.  The  priest,  accompanied  by  the  cross 
bearer,  thurifer,  and  acolytes  with  lighted  candles,  re- 
ceives the  corpse  upon  the  bier  at  the  church  door 


84 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


where  be  blesses  it  and  then  escorts  it  chanting  the 
Miserere  or  the  De  Profundus  to  its  place  at  the  sanc- 
tuary rail  before  the  altar,  when  the  Requiem  Mass  is 
sung  and  the  funeral  obsequies  performed  with  such 
pomp  and  circumstance  as  the  taste  of  friends  may 
dictate  and  their  means  afford,  from  the  plainest  low 
Mass  to  the  most  elaborate  known  to  the  ritual  of  the 
Chui  ( ii,  including  the  draping  of  the  entire  church  and 
windows  in  sombre  black. 

Travellers  meeting  a  funeral  procession  usually  turn 
around  and  face  in  the  direction  which  it  is  going,  and 
while  it  is  passing  bare  tlieir  heads  it  the  season  per 
mits,  and  when  the  deceased  was  a  prominent  person, 
the  remains  are  escorted  a  short  distance  before  the 
journey  is  resumed. 

Devotions  and  pious  customs  and  practices  are  not 
limited  to  Sundays  and  Holy  days.  They  are  woven 
into  and  become  a  part  of  the  every  day  life  of  the 
people.  They  are  not  so  eager  for  riches  as  to  live 
weU.  The  members  of  the  family  are  gathered  in 
prayer  every  night  when  the  rosary  is  said  and  other 
prayers ;  a  farm  is  bought  and  M.  U  Cure  is  sent  for  to 
come  and  bless  it ;  a  house  is  built,  and  it  may  be  but 
a  log  cabin  on  the  frontier,  but  before  moving  in  M. 
le  Cure  comes  again  and  blesses  the  new  home. 

When  settlements  are  made  in  outlying  places  where 
parishes  have  not  been  organized  Calvairea  are  erected 
by  the  rt>ad-side  upon  the  first  land  cleared,  and  here 
the  faithful  gather  on  Sundays  and  Holy  days  to  join 
in  public  prayers.  Large  crosses  and  Catvaires  are 
erected  on  other  farms  as  they  are  taken  up  and  re- 
claimed from  the  wilderness,  and  later  when  a  parish 
is  organized  and  the  people  have  more  means,  they  are 


The  Provinck  of  Qckbbo  awd  Its  Pbople.    86 

made  more  elaborate  hy  the  erection  of  a  shrine  and 
placing  therein  a  group  representing  the  Holy  Family, 
an  Apostle,  the  patron  saint  of  the  parish,  the  emblems 
of  the  Crucifixion — the  cross,  hammer  and  nails. 

Filial  devotion  and  respect  are  a  very  marked  char- 
acteristic in  the  homes  of  the  people,  as  becomes  the 
Christian  family.  New  Year's  day,  jour  de  I'  An,  is  a 
day  of  special  rejoicing  and  family  reunion  when  every 
member  of  the  family,  from  those  in  the  days  of  earli- 
est childhood  to  those  who  have  grown  to  manhood 
and  womanhood,  and  even  those  whose  heads  are 
crowned  with  the  snows  of  years,  return  to  the  home 
of  their  childhood  and  on  bended  knees  supplicate  and 
receive  the  aged  parents'  blessing. 

Their  sense  of  justice  does  not  rest  upon  a  human 
foundation — the  vote  of  the  majority — -nor  does  it 
permit  them  to  violate  the  God-given  rights  of  con- 
science because  they  are  in  the  majority  and  can  im- 
pose their  will  upon  a  helpless  minority. 

Under  the  laws  of  their  making  the  Protestant 
minority  are  permitted  to  maintain  schools  of  their 
own,  paying  all  their  school  taxes  thereto,  and  if  there 
are  not  Protestants  enough  in  any  school  district  to 
maintain  a  school  they  are  permitted  to  join  with 
other  school  districts  tf)  do  so.  And  should  any  Prot- 
estant family  or  families,  whose  children  have  reached 
adult  years,  live  in  a  Catholic  community  and  no  school 
be  necessary,  they  cuu  elect  to  v/hat  school  or  institu- 
tion they  wish  tlieir  taxes  paid,  no  matter  where  loca- 
ted nor  what  distance  away.  With  them  it  is  simply 
a  business  proposition  de(nded  according  to  justice 
and  not  according  to  fanaticism  and  bigotry,  a  prac- 
tical exemplification  of  the  Golden  Rule. 


86 


Gathkrro  Waiflrts. 


Strang^  as  it  may  leem,  in  other  provinoM  of  the 
Dominion  where  Proteatantigm  dominates,  and  where 
the  freedom,  liberality  and  eqnal  rights  of  Protestant- 
ism are  volubly  and  vanntingly  proclaimed,  the  rights 
of  Roman  Catholics  in  educational  matters  are  tram- 
pled nnder  foot,  and  the  justice  they  render  unto 
others  where  they  are  in  the  majority  is  denied  to 
th;-  n  by  their  fellow  citizens  where  they  are  in  the 
T<i--iority. 

.V  convent  and  school  is  generally  located  near  the 
parochial  residence  and  church,  and  here  the  young 
are  taught  the  correct  principles  of  living — the  moral 
faculties  are  cultivated  and  developed  as  well  as  the 
intellectual  Character  is  molded  and  formed  upon 
true  Christian  lines,  the  individual  ai<led  and  guided 
to  reali/e  the  rights  of  Ood  and  his  duties  toward 
man — the  true  end  for  which  he  was  created — and  not 
turned  loose  upon  society  a  mere  intellectual  machine 
without  moral  development,  balanc^e,  symmetry,  com- 
pass, nidder  or  ballast  Such  a»>  education  makes  a 
people  who  pat  eternity  above  time,  heaven  above 
earth,  the  spiritual  above  the  temporal,  principle  above 
expediency,  and  an  upright  life  before  riches. 

Living  where  they  ilo  and  as  they  '^.o,  battressed 
and  supported  by  their  religion,  they  can  be  nothing 
else  but  Catholics  in  their  religions  belief,  but  at  the 
threshold  of  the  Twentieth  century,  with  the  spirit  of 
uneasiness  and  unrest  let  loose  and  spreading  over  the 
land,  with  thousands  upon  thousands  leaving  these 
salutary  props  and  supports  behind,  with  proselytism 
backed  by  abundant  means,  stalking  through  the 
land,  it  may  be  fairly  questioned  if  the  time  has  not 
arrived  for  them  to  make  re-arrangement  of  studies 


Tub  Pbovikck  or  Qcibm  ako  It*  Pbopli.    87 

•nd  give  more  attention  to  the  deeper  tmthi  of  their 
religion,  the  polemical,  and  to  the  iciencea. 

It  is  true  that  it  is  highest  wisdom  as  well  as  the 
teaching  of  the  Scriptnres  to  folly  realize  that  "the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven  Hitffereth  violence  and  only  the 
violent  bear  it  away,"  and  "  What  proftteth  it  if  a  man 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  soul, "  bnt  it  is  also 
true,  and  has  the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  as  well 
that  when  God  created  man  He  gave  him  dominion 
over  the  earth  with  command  to  go  forth  and  sub- 
due it 

Too  many  of  these  unsuspecting,  innocent,  honest 
Catholics  when  they  leave  home  and  the  surroundings 
of  childhood  and  the  safeguards  of  their  country,  are 
like  the  hot-house  plant  when  subjected  to  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  the  elements,  like  the  seed  that  fell  upon  the 
barren  soil,  taking  root  and  flourishing  for  a  short 
time,  but  when  temptation,  indifference,  agnosticism, 
and  the  other  gilded  iams  of  the  day  overtake  them  in 
a  non-Catholic  atmosphere,  wither  up  and  fall  away. 
In  these  latter  days  simple  faith  is  a  very  poor  arma- 
ment with  which  to  meet  the  warfare  of  the  world,  and 
to  overcome  the  seeming  logic  iiu'l  clap-trap  of  the 
designing  proeelytixer,  and  the  scotKng  and  sneers  of 
the  infldel  and  the  agnostic. 

In  the  Province  of  (jnebec  there  is  no  extreme  wealth 
and  no  abject  poverty.  The  people  are  always  ready 
to  assist  each  other,  to  extend  charity  to  aid  any  worthy 
cause,  and  to  alleviate  affliction  and  suffering.  No 
parish  is  too  poor  to  aid  the  Society  for  the  Propa- 
gation of  the  Faith,  and  their  contributions  put  to 
shame  their  more  pretentious  and  wealthy  neighbors 
in  the  United  States.     Nearly  every  parish  has  also  a 


88 


OaTHIRKO   WAirLCTS. 


Society  of  the  Holy  Childhood  whose  contributions 
have  maintained  many  missionaries  in  heathen  lands 
and  saved  many  precious  souls  to  heaven. 

A  daily  round  of  duties  well  and  faithfully  per 
formed,  reasonable  competency  and  peace  of  mind, 
are  prized  beyond  superfluous  wealth  obtained  at  the 
expense  of  worry,  anxiety,  disappointments  and  mined 
health. 

The  sun  rises  clear  and  the  day  is  fair — the  habitani 
is  happy  and  gives  thanks ;  morning  comes  with  low- 
ering skies  and  night  brings  affliction — the  habitant 
sees  in  this  the  hand  of  God.  gives  praise  and  is  recon- 
ciled. As  comes  the  day,  as  goes  the  day — God  so 
ordains,  and  to  His  wisdom  and  goodness  be  humble 
submission,  adoration  and  praise 

Turning  away  from  the  excitement  and  the  artiflcial 
life  of  the  popular  seaside  and  mountain  resort,  and 
outside  the  well-worn  pathways  of  tourist  travel,  a 
vacation  can  be  pleasantly  and  profitably  spent  in  the 
neighboring  Province  of  Quebec  with  a  quaint  Chris- 
tian people,  and  amid  scenes  more  suggestive  of  mediie- 
valism  than  the  artificial,  stilted,  throbbing  life  of  the 
twentieth  century  which  is  in  such  painful  evidence 
elsewhere. 


AN  HOUR  UITII  THE  PURITANS  AND 
PILGRIMS. 

As  ADDIISa    DELIVKRCD    FtBKVlRY    16,  1908,    BlFORI    DlVIHIOit  3, 
AiCCIENT  OrdH    HlHIRXtAIia,   WORCESTIE,  MASS. 

Mr.  President  and  Brother  Hibernians: 

I  highly  iippreci.ite  tlie  honor  of  being  invited  to 
address  you  on  tliis  occasion.  I  would  that  my 
eflforta  may  meet  your  expectation  and  command 
your  approbation.  Wlien  I  accepted  the  invitation  to 
appear  before  yoii,  I  eiuleuvored  to  select  a  subject 
that  would  bo  entertaining  and  pleasing  to  you.  I 
know  full  well  that  wit,  humor  and  jest  are  character- 
istic of  Irishmen — nationiil  traits — and  that  I  ought 
to  offer  you  something  funny ;  but  once  upon  a  time 
many  years  ago,  I  tried  to  be  funny  and  got  such  a 
strapping  therefor  that  I  have  never  trieil  to  be  funny 
since.  I  mention  this  now  lest  you  may  think  when 
I  announce  my  subject  that  I  mean  to  perpetrate  a 
joke,  but  I  assure  you  that  this  is  not  so.  I  shall 
speak  to  you  seriously.  I  liave  decided  to  address 
you  on  the  subject  of  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims,  and  I 
do  this  for  tliree  leading  reasons — to  show  wherein 
they  and  Irishmen  are  alike,  wherein  they  are  unlike, 
an<l  to  make  the  true  ciiaracter  of  these  much  admired 
and  praised  people  better  known. 

If  tliere  be  any  one  dominant  trait  in  the  character 
of  the  Puritans,  Pilgrims,  and  Irishmen,  it  is  loyalty 
to  their  religious  convictions.    In  this  they  are  alike — 


MICtOCOW   RESCHUTION  TEST  CHAKT 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No    2) 


_^     /APPLIED  IM^GE     In. 


1 *609       us* 


90 


Gatherkd  AVaiflets. 


and  yet  behold  how  most  English-speaking  people 
admire  and  exalt  this  trait  in  the  one,  while  cease- 
lessly reprobating  and  denouncing  it  in  the  other. 
A\  e  Irish  and  the  sons  of  Irishmen  have  much  to 
learn  from  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims  in  this  matter. 
Be  their  criminations  and  recriminations,  their  dissen- 
sions and  clashings  amongst  themselves,  what  they 
may — and  they  are  many  and  bitter — they  are  a  unit 
in  sentiment  and  action  against  all  others.  In  this 
they  are  unlike.  Let  Irishmen  or  their  descendants 
disagree,  even  in  trivial  matters,  and  too  often  a  sec- 
ond generation  must  be  born  and  come  upon  the 
scene  of  action  before  amity  and  a  community  of  inter- 
ests will  reign — before  minor  misunderstandings  and 
differences  will  be  forgiven  or  forgotten.  AVell  did 
the  poet  Moore  characterize  this  when  lie  lamentingly 
wrote  in  this  connection  of  Irishmen  and  their  ene- 
mies: 

"While  your  tyrants  join'd  in  hate, 
You  never  join'd  in  love." 

My  third  reason  will  appear  more  fully  as  I  pro- 
ceed.    For  a  title  I  have  called  my  subject 

An  Hour  With  tub  Puritans  and  Pilgrims. 

The  present  is  an  exacting  age.  A  spirit  of  inquiry 
and  investigation  is  everywhere  in  evidence.  A  mam- 
moth interrogation  point  stands  out  boldly  in  the  lime- 
light of  the  intense  life  of  the  twentieth  century.  A 
huge  iconoclastic  giant  roams  unfettered  throughout 
the  land  to  uproot,  to  overturn,  and  to  destroy  every- 
thing opposed  to  truth  and  progress,  everything  that 
burdens  mankind  and  holds  him  enthralled,  to  tear 


An  HofR  With  the  PuRiTArrs  and  Pilobims.    91 

down  the  superstructure  so  industriously  erected  upon 
the  falsehoods  of  tlie  past,  and  hitherto  fondly  main- 
tained and  propagated  for  base  and  selfish  motives. 

At  no  previous  time  in  the  history  of  the  world 
has  such  fearless  independence  to  probe  to  the  bottom 
of  things  been  manifested — to  clear  away  and  destroy 
the  accumulated  rubbish  and  debris  of  past  ages.  No 
predilections  or  prejudices  have  restrained,  no  fear  of 
consequences  has  debarred. 

Thanks  to  the  spirit  of  a  more  intellectual,  inde- 
pendent, and  just  age,  much  that  has  done  duty  as 
history  too  sacred  to  be  questioned  has  had  the  fraud- 
ulent mask  stripped  therefrom  and  the  supporting 
frame-work  thrown  out  upon  the  rubbish  heap  of  myth 
and  fable.  This  is  a  hopeful  sign  an<l  gives  promise 
that  the  day  of  misrepresentation  and  falsehood  is 
past,  and  that  truth  will  eventually  come  into  her  own 
again. 

In  such  a  mood  and  in  such  a  spirit,  and  in  tlie 
interest  of  historical  truth,  let  us  give  a  passing  hour 
to  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims,  and  some  of  the  many 
things  that  have  been  said,  written  and  accepted  as 
authentic  history  concerning  them.  It  is  no  exag- 
geration to  say  that  the  coming  of  the  Pilgrims  and 
Puritans  and  what  is  claimed  for  them — their  deep 
religious  convictions  and  loyalty  to  conscience,  their 
godly  lives,  their  persecution  for  conscience  sake, 
their  sufferings  and  fortitude,  their  achievements  and 
triumphs,  the  lasting  impression  for  good  that  they 
left  upon  society  to  uplift  and  ennoble — all  this  and 
mnch  more  of  similar  import  has  been  told  from  gen- 
eration to  generation  with  ever-increasing  addition, 
exaggeration,  and  emphasis  during  all  the  years  since 


'•'2  (lATlIERED    WaIFLETS. 

their  organization  as  a  sect,  now  more  tlian  tliree  hun- 
dred J  cars. 

Societies  witliout  number  liave  been  formed  and 
multiplied  throughout  the  land — Descendants  of  the 
JIayrtower,  Forefatliers'  Day,  New  England  Societies, 
and  other  similar  organizations  and  associations — to 
glorify  them  and  to  sing  tlieir  praise;  printing 
presses,  like  living  \-olcanoes,  liave  belched  forth  ap- 
pro\ing  and  commendatory  volumes,  some  of  which 
are  digniiie<l  by  the  name  of  history ;  pamphleteers 
and  pulpiteers  have  taxed  the  English  language  to 
its  utmost  for  wotils  of  encomium  and  praise;  orators 
on  the  rostrum  and  statesmen  in  the  halls  of  legisla- 
tion have  soared  away  upon  the  wings  of  vivid  imag- 
inations and  lost  themselves  in  stilted  phrases  and 
frenzies  of  praise;  poets  have  touched  aU  the  finer 
chords  of  tlieir  art  to  give  them  and  their  deeds  at- 
tractive and  effective  setting ;  and  the  pencils  of  artists 
and  the  chisels  of  sculptors  have  been  employed  to 
proclaim  their  greatness  and  transmit  their  undying 
fame  (i)  down  the  corridors  of  Time  to  generations 
unborn. 

In  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  age  we  will 
depart  from  the  pathway  of  admiration  and  adulation 
and  very  briefly  consider  some  of  the  many  claims 
made  in  behalf  of  the  Pilgrims  and  Puritans  and  the 
evidence  upon  which  they  rest.  In  doing  this,  and,  to 
avoid  any  charge  of  bias  or  prejudice,  we  shall  limit 
our  evidence  very  largely  to  that  of  Bradford  himself, 
and  to  other  writers  of  known  standing  and  impartiality. 

BIRTH  OF   I't'RITANISM. 

To  judge  them  rightly  we  must  go  back  to  the  birth 
of  Puritanism,  and  even  to  the  time  of  the  birth  of  the 


An  IIchk  With  the  Puritans  and  Pilorims.    {k\ 

principles  tliat  ninile  Puritanism  possible.  Luther, 
breaking?  away  fnim  tlie  center  of  religious  unity  and 
assertinj?  the  riirht  of  private  judgment,  proclaimed 
faith  and  faitli  alone  as  the  corner-stone  of  his  new 
religion,  and  tlie  only  rei[uisite  for  eternal  salvation. 
Sin  and  sin.  if  you  will,  according  to  his  doctrine,  but 
believe  and  your  salvation  is  secure.  Calvin  soon  fol- 
lowed proclaiming  tlie  vengeance  of  an  Omnipotent 
and  otfended  (iod,  and  tiie  damnation  of  all  mankind 
save  the  predestined  few — and  here  we  have  at  the  out- 
set of  tlie  so-called  Reformation,  as  the  legitimate 
fruit  of  private  judgment,  wholesale  salvation  pro- 
claimed on  the  one  liand  and  wholesale  damnation  on 
the  other,  principles — or  lack  of  principles — directly 
opposed  to  tlie  teachings  of  Christ,  and  as  opposed  iih 
are  the  poles — rs  far  asunder  as  the  vagaries  of  the 
human  mind  can  conceive — and  which  have  given 
birth  to  all  the  sects  that  have  been  born,  died,  and 
re-incarnate<l  in  one  foi  jr  another  during  all  tlie 
centuries  since. 


THE  Al'OSTACY  OF  HENRY  VIII. 

Henry  VIII  soon  after  came  to  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land grounded  in  the  faitii  of  his  fathers — the  church 
which  has  come  triumphantly  down  the  centuries  from 
the  time  of  its  institution  in  Jerusalem  by  the  Re- 
deemer of  mankind,  who  foretold  the  coming  of  false 
teachers  and  false  preachers,  but  He  also  promised 
that  lie  would  abide  with  it  forever,  and  that  the 
gates  of  hell  should  not  prevail  against  it — a  church 
to  which  he  was  devotedly  loyal,  a  church  in  defence 
of  which  he  wrote  trenchantly  against  Luther,  his  work 
earning  for  him  from  the  Pope  at  Rome  the  title  of 


94 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


Ji 


"  Defender  of  tbe  Faith,"  which  title  is  still  proudly 
borne  by  the  crown  of  England,  a  church  to  whose 
teachings  he  was  true,  until  yielding  to  the  lowest  and 
basest  of  animal  passions,  he  failed  to  secure  the 
approval  of  the  I'ope,  the  visible  head  of  the  church 
on  earth,  to  sanction  the  violation  of  that  command  of 
Scripture  which  says :  "What  God  hath  joined  let  no 
man  put  asunder."  Failing  in  this  and  yielding  to  his 
passions  he  liroke  away  from  the  center  of  Christian 
unity — the  church  to  which  the  people  and  the  throne 
of  England  had  been  loyal  for  nearly  one  thousand 
years — and  began  that  career  of  licentiousness  and 
crime  that  earned  for  him  the  saying  that  "he  neither 
spared  woman  in  his  lust  nor  man  in  his  anger,"  and 
that  brought  lasting  disgrace  upon  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land 

Breaking  away  from  the  church  and  following  in 
the  foot-steps  of  Luther  ,ind  Calvin,  he  set  up  his  un- 
eontrnlled  will  as  the  law  of  the  land  in  spiritual  mat- 
ters—and in  opposition  to  the  <  jmmand  of  the  Master 
to  observe  whatsoever  things  He  commanded,  and  to 
render  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's — another 
addition  to  the  sects  whose  doctrines  rested  upon  the 
comer-stone  of  private  judgment — upon  the  "it  seem- 
eth  better  unto  me"  rather  than  upon  the  "thus  said 
the  Lord"  of  Mt.  Sinai,  an<l  the  "He  tliat  heareth  you 
heareth  Me,"  and  "he  that  believeth  not  shall  be 
damned"  of  the  Master.  Plunged  into  excesses  his 
e.xchequer  was  soon  exhausted  when  plundering,  rob- 
bery, bloodshed,  and  ruin  soon  followed  in  the  wake, 

d  the  most  violent  and  barbarous  cruelties  and 
l?utcheries  were  visited  upon  all  who  stood  for  moral 
rectitude  and  opposed  him.     Piracy  became  general  at 


Ati  IIorR  With  the  PrRiTANs  akd  Pilorims.    i».j 

home  and  abroad,  and  the  honors  of  knighthood  were 
bestowed  upon  the  most  daring  and  successful  pirates, 
freebooters,  and  marauders — the  ill-gotten  gains  of 
some  of  whom  were  shareil  with  royalty  itself. 

DKOENKUACY  OK  THK  PEOPLE. 

People  in  higli  and  low  station  bent  tht  knee  to 
Baal,  and  everytliing  salutary  was  sacrificed  to  the 
accjuisition  of  wealtli,  station  and  power.  Even  the 
Chief  Justice  of  Kngland,  the  immortal  Bacon,  sol<l  his 
decisions — the  decisions  of  the  highest  legal  tribunal  in 
the  land — for  money.  Demoralization  existed  in  every 
walk  of  life,  and  lust  for  wealth  soon  begot  religious 
dyspepsia,  whicli  in  turn  begot  a  multiplicity  of  sects 
to  meet  tlie  morbid  wants  of  those  who  trampled  the 
ten  Commandments  an<l  the  teaching  and  positive 
commands  of  the  Son  of  (rod  under  foot.  Worldli- 
ness  and  the  baser  passions  then  dominated  and  actu- 
ated the  masses  of  the  English  people.  At  such  a 
time,  of  such  conditions,  and  of  such  a  people  was 
Puritanism  born. 

THE  PfRITAN  CHARACTER. 

It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the  people  composing 
this  sect  were  no  better  than  others  of  their  time  who 
were  dominated  by  base  and  selfish  motives,  who 
veiled  their  misdeeds  under  scriptural  te.\ts,  high- 
sounding  phrases,  and  lofty  pretences — of  dethroning 
error  and  establishing  a  purer  religion  while  driving 
the  living  Christ  from  tl'o  sanctuary  and  installing 
man  in  His  stead.  During  all  the  years  since,  holy 
lives  and  holy  ends  have  been  claimed  for  them,  and 
their  alleged  holiness  lias  been  proclaimed  to  the 
world  to  gloss  over  and  obscure  vile  deeds  until  the 


!»() 


Oatiikkkd  AVaifi.kts. 


'I-' 


ttord  puritanical  I  as  been  given  place  in  tlie  vocabu- 
lary as  synonomous  with  false  pretense  and  ileeepticin. 
It  reijiiires  no  deep  profundity,  or  exhaustive  inves- 
tiifatiou  of  tlie  records  of  the  past,  to  discover  tiiat 
their  so-called  relijjious  jinnciples  were  the  offsprinj; 
of  tlie  aberration  of  a  morbid  pietism  wedded  to  mer- 
cenary and  firaspiuc;  arrogance  and  avarice. 

We  are  aware  tliat  some  of  the  descendants  of  the 
Pilgrims  disclaim  anything  iu  common  with  tlie  Puri- 
tans; but  Puritan  and  Pilgrim  being  contemporary,  of 
the  same  parentage  and  descent,  and  being  united  by 
the  common  ties  of  origin,  <loctrine,  aims  and  de- 
sires— in  tlie  cruel  enactment  and  more  cruel  enforce- 
ment of  ))arbarous  jienal  laws,  in  opposition  to  tlieir 
repeal  or  amelioration,  and  otlier  unchristian  practi- 
ces— and  fraternizing  and  feUowsliipping  as  they  did, 
no  good  reason  exists  for  making  any  distinction  be- 
tween them  now  simply  because  some  of  them  immi- 
grated to  this  country  a  few  years  before  others  did. 
Tlie  motives  that  apparently  actuated  tliem  in  their 
native  land  were  tlie  dominant  and  actuating  motives 
of  the  time— the  acipiisition  of  wealth,  tlif  Attainment 
of  station,  tlie  gratification  of  ambition. 

Tlie  Puritans  in  iheir  native  country  sought  to 
undermine  the  government,  to  overthrow  royaltj',  and 
to  assume  the  reins  of  power.  This  treasonable  disloy- 
alty and  subversion  of  government  was  concocted,  cul- 
tivated, and  put  into  practice  under  the  hypocritical 
pretense  of  hatred  of  prelacy,  striving  for  freedom  of 
conscience,  the  practice  of  pure  relij-  on,  and  the  like. 
In  "The  United  States  History,  Its  Powers  and 
Progress,"  Philadelphia,  IS.M,  it  is  recorded  that 
political  malcontents  and  plotters  against  their  law- 


An  IIoiii  With  thk  I'i-ritans  and  Pimirim:^.    07 


fully  eoustitiitfil  jidvunimeiit  am!  rfijiiiins;  (^iieeii 
(Jlary,  A.  1>.  l.■)."l,•!-^),  in  the  year  ir).")4,  were  com- 
pelled to  flee  from  their  country  to  encape  the  just 
penalty  of  their  treason.  They  went  to  Geneva  and 
there  remained  until  the  accession  of  Elizabeth  in 
1558,  when  tliey  returned  and  organized  a  politico- 
religious  society  un<ler  the  leadership  of  one  Hrown, 
when  they  became  known  as  Brownists — and  later, 
when  further  differences  and  contentions  arose  they 
were  given  the  name  of  Puritans,  in  derision,  because 
of  their  preposterous  pretensions.  Separatists,  Inde- 
pendents, Presbyterians,  Non-conformists,  and  other 
seemingly  endless  subdivisions  and  variations  were 
born  soon  after  as  the  offspring  of  this  parent  stock. 

In  this  connection  we  need  devote  no  more  time  to 
the  aims  and  objects  of  this  political-religious  sect,  be- 
cause every  school-boy  knows  that  they  fully  realized 
the  success  of  the  unlioly,  ambitious,  rebellious  and 
traitorous  principles  that  actuated  them  when  they 
butchered  their  king,  overturned  their  lawful  govern- 
ment, and  put  Cromwell  at  its  head. 

Dismissing  their  political  and  treasonable  schem- 
ing, and  turning  our  attention  to  their  so-called  relig- 
ion, we  find  its  chief  corner-stone  to  be  that  each 
individual  in  matters  of  belief  is  a  law  unto  himself, 
believing  or  rejecting  at  will ;  that  each  congregation 
of  the  many,  many  divided  sects,  is,  generally  speak- 
ing, independent  of  all  others,  has  a  right  to  assemble 
and  worship  according  to  its  own  doctrines  and  cove- 
nants, and  these  are  to  be  determined  by  the  majority 
thereof,  thus  milking  (lod's  word  and  God's  law  de- 
pendent upon  the  votes  of  men  and  their  changing 
whims.     That   it   was   greed   for  gain  and   lust  for 


m 


ns 


Gathered  Waiklrtm. 


II      i  ; 


power  tliat  prompted,  and  not  the  love  of  "pure 
religion,"  its  so  volubly,  vuimtingly,  and  persistently 
proi'lairaed,  that  impelled  them,  we  shall  to  be  brief, 
summon  but  one  from  the  many  witnesses  who  give 
approving  testimony. 

.Maoaulay  says:  "Not  content  witli  limiting  the 
power  of  tlie  Monarcli,  they  were  desirous  to  erect 
a  commonwealth  on  the  ruins  of  English  polity." 

ITHITANS  CONTl'MACIors  AND  DISLOYAL. 

That  they  went  arrogant,  ambitious,  obstinate,  opin- 
ionated, dictiitorial,  disputatious,  contentious,  and  irrec- 
oncilable, is  abundantly  proved  by  their  conduct  and 
tiie  history  ami  literature  of  their  times. 

A  standard  Englisli  publication  says:  "The  Puri- 
tans miglit  liave  almost  said  in  a  word  we  object  to 
everytliing." 

And  Wentwortli,  subsequently  Karl  of  Staffonl,  said 
of  them:  "The  very  genius  of  ....  these  people 
leads  them  always  to  oppose,  botli  civilly  and  ecclesi- 
astically, all  that  authority  ever  outlines  for  tliem." 

And  again  we  read  in  reference  to  the  bitter  and 
selfish  wrangling  and  intriguing  of  these  times,  "Epis- 
copacy stood  against  Puritanism,  royalty  against  re- 
publicanism, independency  against  Presbyterianism, — 
and  all  these  against  Catholicism." 

How  well  tlie  treasonable  leaven  of  Puritanism 
worked  in  seducing  tlie  allegience  of  the  soldiery 
from  their  King  and  government;  how  well  their 
cherislied,  ambitious  and  unscrupulous  leader,  Crom- 
well, succeeded  by  liypocritical  religious  pretences  in 
supplanting  the  loj-al  officers  in  the  army  with  his 
willing,   unscrupulous,   and    unprincipled    tools,   the 


An  HdiK  With  tiik  IVritaim  ami  Pti.iiRiM^.    (lit 

blooily  bnttlnn  f<)u^Jllt,  the  devafitation  wrniiglit,  the 
overthrow  of  the  ({overnraent,  the  beheading  of  thrir 
Kini;,  anil  the  ingtullation  ot  Cromwell  as  Loril  Pro- 
tector, are  to'. '  pon  the  bloody  and  disgi-aoeful  pages 
of  Knj^land's  Ir  tory. 

In  the  Kncyclopedia  Britannica  we  read  in  relation 
to  their  condiu't  at  this  time,  that  "it  was  indefensible 
when  we  regard  tlieir  idea  of  the  civil  power,  of  the 
conscience,  and  religi  m." 

We  liave  not  far  to  seek  for  a  reason  why  some  of 
them  sought  safety  in  foreign  countries  before  and 
after  the  Kestoration,  and  we  shall  not  find  the  impel- 
ling motivt  to  be  to  find  a  country  where  they  might 
enjoy  religions  liberty  so  much  as  to  find  a  place 
where  they  miglit  escape  from  the  just  penalty  of 
their  crimes.  Altliougli,  with  the  cunning  of  the  ser- 
pent, they  set  up  the  cry  of  "religion,"  and  "persecu- 
tion for  conscience  sake,"  it  was  not  the  first  or  only 
time  that  the  livery  of  hi^'ven  was  stolen  to  cover  a 
base  purpose. 

Their  descendants  and  successors  continually  hark 
back  to  the  same  seductive  and  deceitful  cry;  but  in 
this  day  and  generation,  it  would  be  difficult  to  find 
an  unbiased  jury  who,  on  presentation  of  the  abun- 
dant testimony  that  can  be  adduced  to  the  contrary, 
would  find  this  as  their  verdict. 


riKITANS  WKLCOMKU  IN  HOLLAND. 

We  h  7e  it  upon  tlie  testimony  of  some  of  those 
who  went  to  Ilolliind  that  they  ivere  well  received 
there,  that  they  were  not  persecuted  for  conscience 
sake,  nor  were  any  obstacles  interposed  against  their 
peculiar  religious  practices — or  v.-hat  were  meant  for 


100 


(i.VTIIKRKII    AVaU'I.KTS. 


i  '     i 
Ijll 


Biicli.  Then  wliy  did  tlif y  init  remain  there  i  Why 
<Iid  tliey  not  8tiiy  in  a  civilized  anil  tolerant  country 
that  received  them  witli  open  arms*  For  an  answer 
we  liave  but  to  rwnll  the  ferment  and  imreHt  that  at 
that  time  pervailed  all  civilized  Kiirope  in  conse- 
(jiience  of  the  fabulouH  tales  tidd  of  the  ^reat  wealth 
that  abounded  in  America,  and  that  it  only  awaited 
the  pitherinj?  by  those  who  adventured  thither. 

\\'e  have  it  upon  the  authority  of  Hradford  himself 
that  many  of  his  comrades,  companions,  and  other 
allejfcd  ultra-holy  people  were  wranglintf  anJ  <|uarrel- 
int?  amouK  themselves  at  Frankfort  where  "be(fan  the 
liitter  war  of  .uteution"  which  later  resulted  in  a 
disruption  of  the  one  and  the  orgauizatiou  of  two  dis- 
tinct churches— a  characteristic  that  has  survived  until 
the  ])reseut  time— when  a  number  of  them  "falling 
into  some  errors  in  ye  h)W  countries  there  for  ye  most 
parte  buried  themselves  and  tiieir  names." 

Being  restive  and  •mreconeilable,  they  removetl 
from  Frankfort  to  Amsterdam,  but  wrangling  and 
ipiarreliug  stilJ  continued.  They  subseciuently  re- 
moved to  Leyden  wliere  it  was  rumored  that  Holland 
was  growing  w^iary  of  them,  and  "had  rather  driven 
them  out,"  when  "they  began  to  think  of  removal  to 
some  other  place,"— some  saying  that  "they  preferred 
the  prisons  of  England,"  from  which  they  fled  to 
escape  from  the  conseciuences  of  thjir  crimes,  "to 
such  liberty  in  Holland." 

The  •'hildren  as  they  grew  up,  inheriting  the  traits 
of  their  parents,  became  obstreperous  and  dissolute, 
"getting  ye  raines  off  their  necks  and  departing  from 
their  parents,"— these  "christian"  children  of  "chris- 
tian" parents  brought  up  under  sternest  "christian" 


An  IIoi'r  With  tub  PrRiTANH  and  Piuirimm,  liil 

(linriplinu  in  a  country  tliiit  inlerpo§e<l  n"  limitation 
or  bnrrierH! 

It  was  iihoiit  tim«  to  niiik«  nnotlier  oimn(?e  when 
tliey  liei'imiM  iinxidiiM  to  "no  to  Home  pliu'e  of  bt-t- 
ter  ailvantat^e"  w litre  a  "better  and  easier  plaoe  of 
liviu(?  would  draw  many" — tlien  as  afterwards  look- 
ing out  for  the  main  cl.anee — not  wlioUy  an  unworthy 
motive,  perhaps,  but  strantfely  out  of  harmony  with 
the  claims  put  forth  in  tiieir  behalf.  t'r)nference  and 
debate  resulted,  and  the  advantages  and  disadvantages 
of  different  places  were  discussed  and  considered. 
Some  wanted  to  go  to  (iuinea,  "as  it  must  needs  make 
ye  inhabitants  ridi,"— and  (iuinea  belonged  to  the 
much-despiHcd  and  rell'jiou-hateil  Spnniank — ami  ho 
thrift  again,  and  not  'igion  or  conscience,  creeps  in 
as  an  impelling  moti'.  ,. 

Others  wanted  to  go  to  "some  parts  of  Virginia 
where  ye  Knglish  had  already  ma''e  entrance,"  but 
objection  was  made  to  tliis  because  'hey  went  there 
they  might  be  worse  persecuted  tl  in  England — 
Cavalier  and  Kounil-heud  would  not  be  likely  to  fra- 
ternize or  liave  anything  more  in  common  in  the  New 
than  they  had  in  the  Old  AVorld.  But  with  them,  in 
temporal  as  in  spiritual  matters,  a  vote  of  the  majority 
ty  was  supreme,  and  America  was  chosen. 

SKKKINO  TIIK  AID  OK  ADVENTURERS  OR  I'KOMOTEK-*. 

Hrought  up  as  they  had  been,  and  living  as  they 
did,  roaming  from  place  to  place,  they  were  without 
facilities  and  means  to  undertake  the  voyage;  and 
here  the  words  of  Bradford  are  very  significant,  "and 
they  must  as  well  looke  to  be  seconded  with  supplies 
as  presently  to  be  transported." 


102 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


I:!i 


Several  of  the  nations  of  Europe  had,  in  earlier 
times,  been  very  active  and  highly  successful  in  colo- 
nizing and  developing  portions  of  America  and  deriv- 
ing vast  revenue  therefrom — much  of  which  was 
captured  by  English  pirates — and  now  some  of  the 
English  people  awoke  from  their  debaucheries — their 
predatory  life,  robberies,  beer-drinking,  bear-baiting 
and  cock-fighting — long  enough  to  learn  what  these 
more  enlightened,  more  civilized,  and  more  enterpris- 
ing nations  had  accomplished,  and  now  they  sought  to 
share  in  the  profits  of  such  work — this  triumph  of 
peace,  civilization,  and  endeavor.  The  more  enter- 
prising and  adventurous  were  now  active  in  promo- 
moting  their  own  financial  interests  by  outfitting  par- 
ties— "grub-staking"  them,  as  it  is  now  called — i<> 
come  to  these  shores  for  fish  and  to  trade  with  the  In- 
dians for  furs. 

This  being  known  in  Holland,  a  committee  was 
appointed  by  the  Puritans  to  visit  some  of  these  out- 
fitters— adventurers  they  were  then  called — to  secure 
their  interest,  co-operation  and  aid.  The  adventurers, 
outfitters,  or  "  grub-stakers "  of  those  times  were  an 
e.Ycellent  type  of  the  well  known  promoters  of  the 
present  day. 

This  committee  met  with  success,  and  they  then  re- 
turned to  Holland  and  made  a  formal  report,  which 
was  so  favorable  that  another  committee  was  dis- 
patehod  to  make  final  arrangements  "to  treat  and 
conclude  with  such  merchants  and  other  friends  as 
had  manifested  their  forwardness  to  provoke  to  and 
adventure  in  this  voyage."  This  proposed  "adven- 
ture" becoming  known  in  Holland  "some  Dutchmen 
made  them  faire  offers  about  going  with  them,"  but 


An  Hour  With  the  Puhitans  and  Pilgrims.  103 

Thomas  Weston,  a  prominent  adventurer  or  promoter 
of  Bristol,  (loubtlesj  fearing  to  lose  such  a  large  num- 
ber of  "  grub-stakers,"  journeyed  to  Leyden  to  pro- 
mote the  enterprise,  and  "at  ye  same  time  persuaded 
them  to  goe  on  and  not  to  meddle  with  ye  Dutch  nor 
depend  too  much  on  ye  Virginia  Company,"  and  that 
"he  and  such  merchants  as  were  his  friends  would  sett 
them  forth  and  feare  neither  want  for  shipping  nor 
money." 

ACTOATING  MOTIVES. 

The  above  throws  a  very  strong  side-light  upon  the 
going  out  of  the  Puritans — as  trusting  angels  into  the 
darkness  of  night,  voyaging  out  upon  unknown  and 
tempestuous  seas  for  conscience  sake,  and  to  establish 
religious  liberty  and  freedom  as  claimed.  Does  not 
this  and  many  other  tilings  of  similar  import,  now 
easily  available,  abundantly  prove  that  it  was  merce- 
nary rather  than  spiritual  motives  that  prompted  the 
coming  of  the  Pilgrims  and  Puritans? 

The  bright  prospects  now  of  going  "to  some  place 
of  better  advantage  "  stimulated  wrangling  and  schem- 
ing anew,  when  "Mr.  Black  well,  he  was  an  elder  of  ye 
church  at  Amsterdam  ....  made  strategem  for  Sir. 
Johnson  and  his  people  at  Embden." 

"These  divisions  and  distractioms  had  shaken  off 
many  of  their  pretended  friends" — and  also  their 
proffered  and  hoped-for  means. 

But  these  promoters  were  no  novices  in  such  under- 
takings, and  were  not  to  he  thwarted  by  dissimulation 
and  scheming.  With  the  assurance,  coolness,  and 
adroitness  of  the  modern  promoter,  they  brushed 
aside  and  surmounted  obstacles,  even  when  seated 
upon  the  throne  itself.     For  the  venture  now  under 


k 


1 4 


104 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


consideration,  they  obtained  a  patent  or  charter  from 
the  Crown,  but  "  the  patente  was  not  taken  in  ye  name 
of  any  of  their  own." 

AVhy  strategem?  Why  deception?  Why  dissimu- 
lation? 

The  colony  of  Virginia,  whither  the  Puritans  pre- 
tended that  they  intended  to  go,  was  living  under 
a  charter  that  recognized  the  church  "by  law  estab- 
lished," and  it  would  be  too  much  to  expect  the  king 
to  approve  the  introduction  of  an  element  of  discord 
and  strife — a  renewal  in  the  New  of  the  bitterness  and 
strife  and  bloodshed  and  anarchy  of  the  Old  World. 
The  promoters,  successful  in  this  ob  in  other  things, 
secured  from  the  King  his  promise  that  he  "would 
connive  at  them  and  would  not  molest  them." 


PRACTISING   DECEPTION. 

We  have  seen  that  Weston  had  already  told  them 
"not  to  depend  too  much  on  ye  Virginia  Company," 
and  now  it  is  a  fair  question  to  ask  if  he  had  not 
already  planned,  with  the  knowledge  and  approval  of 
the  King  and  leading  Puritans  in  the  enterprise,  not 
to  go  to  Virginia,  but  to  land  at  some  more  northern 
place,  fls  they  afterwards  did.  Is  it  not  another  fiction 
of  history  so-called  that  they  had  lost  their  way  when 
they  landed  at  Cape  Cod?  In  view  of  the  maritime 
knowledge  of  the  time,  it  is  demanding  over-much  of 
credulity  to  believe  that  their  landing  upon  the  coast 
of  Massachusetts  was  not  more  by  design  than  by  acci- 
dent, or  because  of  lack  of  knowledge;  and  this  is 
further  strengthened  by  the  willingness  of  the  King 
to  wink  at  their  observances  of  their  religious  forms, 
which  he  could  safely  do  if  promised  that  they  should 


An  Hour  With  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims.  105 


be  landed  so  far  away  from  the  Virginia  colony.  And 
this  contention  is  still  further  strengthened  and  con- 
Armed  by  the  signing  of  what  has  become  known  as 
a  very  wonderful  performance — the  signing  of  the 
famous  compact  on  the  Mayflower  for  which  so  much 
is  claimed  in  history — the  Magna  Charta  of  our  liber- 
ties, and  the  like. 

As  is  true  in  most  similar  enterprises  the  passen- 
gers on  board  the  Mayflower  came  from  many  walks 
of  life,  even  from  the  slums  of  the  streets  of  London, 
among  whom  were  turbulent  and  v^ery  unruly  persons. 
The  passengers  generally  in  good  faith  took  passage 
for  Virginia,  where  doubtless  some  of  them  expected 
to  meet  old  friends  and  companions  among  the  earlier 
colonists.  It  is  not  difficult  to  surmise  what  might 
have  taken  place,  and  what  might  have  been  the  re- 
sult, had  they  not  been  tied  up  in  the  "compact"  before 
discovering  the  deception  practiced  upon  them  when 
they  were  landed  upon  the  coast  of  Massachusetts. 

But  now  other  promoters  came  upon  the  scene,  for 
the  Puritans  learned  "yt  sundrie  lords  obtained  a  large 
grant  from  ye  King  for  ye  more  northerly  parts  of  that 
country  derived  out  of  ye  Virginia  patente  and  wholly 
secured  from  that  governmente,  and  to  be  called  by 
another  name,  viz. :  New  England. 

Mr.  Weston,  the  active  promoter  of  the  enterprise, 
was  suspiciously  active  and  urgent  for  the  Puritans  to 
abandon  going  to  Virginia  and  to  go  to  New  England 
instead,  "chiefly  for  ye  hope  of  present  proflte  to  be 
made  by  ye  fishing  that  was  found  in  ye  countrie." 

This  was  another  occasion  for  wrangling  and  quar- 
relling, not  only  among  the  promoters,  but  also  among 
the  Puritans,  some  of  whom  now  refused  to  go  because 


•I' 


V 


106 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


they  were  not  to  go  to  Guinea,  some  because  they  were 
not  to  go  to  Virginia,  and  others,  who  were  doubtless 
in  the  secret,  because  it  was  decided  to  go  to  New  Eng- 
land. 


COMPACT   ON   BOARD   THE   MAYFLOWER. 

But  to  Nr  w  England  they  came  although  pretending 
that  Virginia  was  their  destination.  We  have  already 
seen  tlie  necessity  for  making  the  celebrated  "com- 
pact" on  boanl  the  Mayflower  before  landing,  and  the 
shrewd  worldly  interest  that  prompted  it 

In  the  words  of  Bradford,  it  was  "occasioned  partly 
by  ye  discontented  and  mutinous  speeches  that  some 
of  the  strangers  amongst  them  had  let  fall  from  them 
in  ye  ship — That  when  they  came  a  shore  they  would 
use  their  own  libertie;  for  none  had  power  to  com- 
mand them,  the  patente  they  had  being  for  Virginia, 
and  not  for  New  England,  which  belonged  to  an  other 
Government  with  which  ye  Virginia  Company  had 
nothing  to  doe.  And  partly  that  such  an  acte  by 
them  done  (thi"  their  condition  considered)  might  be 
as  flrme  as  any  patent,  and  in  some  respects  more 
sure." 

The  glamour  thrown  around  this  act  leads  the  youth 
in  oar  schools  and  the  untliinking  to  place  it  upo  a 
par,  if  not  above,  the  acts  of  the  Apostles ;  but  more 
closely  examined,  it  will  be  found  upon  a  very  low 
human  level — the  abrogation  of  a  solemn  covenant, 
the  patent  under  which  the  passengers  on  board  the 
Mayflower  adventured,  and  the  l  bstitution  of  another 
document  that  put  aU  the  power  of  domination  and 
control  into  the  hands  of  the  conspiring  and  ambi- 
tious— a  dominant  and  unquestioned  trait  in  the  Puri- 


An  Hot'R  With  the  Pubitans  and  Pilgrims.  107 

tan  character  from  their  earliest  beginning  down  to  the 
present  time. 

What  then  becomes  of  the  mountains  of  admiration 
and  adulation  so  industriously  and  continually  built 
up  to  proclaim  their  foresight  and  statesmanship — the 
purity  of  their  lives,  their  loyalty  to  principle,  and 
their  siccess  in  establishing  the  civil  and  religious 
liberty  now  such  a  marked  and  highly-prized  charac- 
teristic of  this  country? 

It  would  indeed  be  very  singular  if  there  were  not 
some  high-minded  and  good  people  among  them ;  but 
when  all  reference  to  the  bad  is  omitted,  or  their  sin- 
ful lives  glossed  over,  and  indiscriminate  and  exagger- 
ated praise  bestowed  upon  them,  the  generations  of 
the  past  believed,  as  well  as  do  too  many  of  the  pres- 
ent, that  they  were  all  upright.  God-fearing  and  holy. 
It  m„y  well  be  questioned  if  the  best  and  most  able  of 
their  number  returned  to  earth  whether  or  not  they 
would  recogaize  the  pictures  made  of  them  or  the 
frames  that  give  them  setting. 

A  close  examination  of  the  records  of  their  time 
bears  ample  negative  evidence,  but  we  shall  now  be 
content  with  the  testimony  of  Bradford  himself  upon 
a  few  of  the  many  cases  that  might  be  cited. 


"si 


DEFALCATIOX    OF    ALLEETON. 

AUerton,  a  son-in-law  of  Elder  Brewster,  one  of  the 
more  prominent  men  of  the  Mayflower  colony,  for 
whom  Point  AUerton,  on  the  coast  of  Massachusetts,  is 
named,  and  who  was,  doubtless,  a  leader  among  them, 
was  sent  to  England  to  dispose  of  the  first  cargo  of 
beaver-skins  and  other  fur  and  fish,  to  adjust  financial 
matters  between  the  adventurers  and  the  Pilgrims,  and 


108 


Gathered  AVaiflets. 


to  bring  back  such  goods  and  commodities  as  were 
needed  in  the  Colony.  On  his  return,  he  made  such 
a  showing  that  he  was  sent  the  next  and  following 
years  on  like  missions.  Suspicions  were  aroused  that 
everything  was  not  right.  Another  person  was  sent 
later,  when  it  was  discovered  that  Allerton  was  a  rank 
defaulter.     Bradford  says  of  this : 

"First  it  seems  to  appere  clearly  that  Ashley's 
business,  and  ye  buying  of  this  ship,  and  ye  courses 
framed  thereupon,  were  flrst  continued  and  proposed 
by  Mr.  Allerton,  as  also  yt  pleaes  and  pretences  which 
he  made  of  ye  inabilitie  of  ye  plantation  to  repaye 
their  money's,  etc.,  and  ye  hops  he  gave  them  of  doing 
it  with  proHte  was  more  believed  «fe  rested  on  by  them 
(at  least  some  of  them)  then  anything  ye  plantation 
said  or  did." 

"It  is  like,  though  Mr.  Allerton  might  thinke  not  to 
wrong  ye  plantation  in  ye  maine,  yet  his  own  gaine 
and  private  ends  led  him  aside  in  these  things ;  for  it 
came  to  be  knowne,  and  I  have  it  in  a  letter  under 
Mr.  Shirley's  hand,  that  in  ye  2  or  3  years  of  his  im- 
ploymente  he  had  cleared  up  £400.  and  put  it  into  a 
brew-house  of  Mr.  Collier's  in  London,  at  first  under 
Mr.  Sheriey's  name,  .fee;  besides  what  he  might  have 
otherwise.  Againe  Mr.  Sherley  and  he  had  perticuler 
dealings  in  some  things ;  for  he  bought  up  ye  beaver 
that  sea-men  and  other  pasengers  brought  over  to 
Bristol,  and  at  other  places,  and  charged  ye  bills  to 
London,  which  Jlr.  Sherley  payed ;  and  they  got  some 
time  A'.'iO.  a  peece  in  a  bargen,  as  was  made  known  by 
Mr.  Ilatherly  and  others,  besids  what  he  might  be 
other  wise. 
"With  pitie  and  compassion  (touching  Mr.  Aller- 


An  Hocb  With  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims.  lOi) 

ten)  I  may  say  with  ye  apostle  to  Timothy,  I  Tim. 
e-").  They  that  mil  be  rich  fall  into  many  temptationi 
and  mares,  etc.;  and  pearce  them$elves  throw  with 
many  sorrows,  etc. ;  for  the  love  of  money  is  ye  roote 
of  all  evil.,  V  lo." 

"God  give  him  to  see  ye  evil  in  his  failings,  that 
he  may  find  mercie  by  repentance  for  ye  wrongs  he 
hath  done  to  any,  and  this  pore  plantation  in  spetiall." 

MI'RDER   AND    BESTIALITY. 

John  Billington,  one  of  the  passengers  who  came 
over  in  the  Mayflower,  was  hanged  for  murder  a  few 
years  after  landing  in  the  country. 

In  Bradforci's  words,  "This  year  John  Billington  ye 
elder,  (one  that  come  over  with  ye  first)  was  arrained, 
and  by  both  grand  and  petie  jurie  found  guilty  of  wil- 
ful  murder,  by  plaine  and  notorious  evidei  ce.  And 
was  for  the  same  accordingly  e.Mcuted.  His  facte 
was,  that  he  way-laid  a  young  man,  one  John  New 
Comin  (about  a  former  ijuarell,)  and  shote  him  with 
a  gune,  whereof  he  dyed." 

And  again  Bradford  records:  "Amongst  of  ?r 
enormities  that  feU  out  amongst  them,  this  year  3  ?  ^n 
were  (after  due  triall)  executed  for  robery  and  mur- 
der which  they  had  committed;  their  names  were 
these,  Arthur  Peach,  Thomas  Jackson,  and  Richard 
Stinnings ;  there  was  a  4.,  Daniel  Crose,  who  was  also 
guilty,  but  he  escaped  away  and  could  not  be  found." 
Thomas  Granger  was  convicted  and  hung  for  the 
crime  of  sodomy.  The  animals  with  which  the  crimf 
was  committed  were  assembled  and  killed  in  his  pre'  • 
ence  and  tumbled  into  a  common  pit,  when  he  w  as 
executed.  Of  this  and  other  vices  of  the  times,  P. ad- 
ford  writes :     "And  yet  all  this  could  not  suppress  ye 


no 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


r 


braking  out  of  sundrie  notorioae  sins  (as  this  year, 
besids  other,  gives  us  too  many  sad  presidents  and 
instances,)  espetially  drunkenness  and  unclainnes; 
not  only  incontinence  between  persons  unmarried,  for 
which  many  both  men  and  women  had  been  punished 
sharply  enough,  but  some  married  persons  also.  But 
tliat  which  is  worse,  even  sodomy  and  bugerie,  (things 
fearful  to  name,)  have  broak  forth  in  this  land,  oftener 
than  once." 

COMIXG   OK   THE    FIKiST    MINISTER. 

As  a  correct  word  picture  of  the  sanctimonious 
Puritan,  with  which  all  are  familiar,  and  some  of 
his  doings,  I  shall  close  this  salacious  reconl  of  short- 
comings and  misdeeds  of  this  much  proclaimed  and 
loudly  praised,  deeply  religious  and  holy  (0  people. 

Mr.  John  Lyford  came  to  them  as  a  Minister  in 
1024.  Bradford  says  of  him :  "When  this  man  first 
came  ashore  he  saluted  them  with  thst  deference  and 
humiliation  as  is  seldome  to  be  seen,  r  nd  indeed  made 
them  ashamed  he  so  bowed  and  cringed  unto  them, 
and  wou' J  have  kissed  their  hands  if  they  would  have 
suffered ;  yea  he  wept  and  shed  many  tears,  blessing 
God  that  had  brought  him  to  see  their  faces ;  and 
admiring  ye  things  they  had  done  in  their  wants,  <fec., 
as  if  he  had  been  made  all  of  love  and  ye  humblest 
person  in  ye  world. 

"They  gave  him  ye  best  entertainment  yey  could 
(in  all  simplisitie)  and  a  large  alowans  of  food  out  of 
ye  store  than  any  other  had,  and  as  the  Gov'r  ha<l  used 
in  all  waightie  affairs  to  consulte  with  their  elder  Mr. 
Brewster  (together  with  his  assistants)  so  now  he 
called  Mr.  Lyford  also  to  counsel!  with  them  in  their 
waightiest  businesses." 


An  IIoi-R  Wmi  tiiis  Puritans  and  Phokims.  Ill 


Amonffst  other  8hnrt>cominf^  and  misdeeds, although 
a  married  mao,  a  charge  of  bastardy  was  made  against 
him,  wlien,  to  again  (juote  Bradfonl,  "  his  wife  was  so 
effected  with  his  doings,  as  she  could  no  longer  coneeaill 
her  greefe  and  sorrow  of  minde,  but  opens  ye  same  to 
one  of  tlieir  deacones  and  some  of  her  other  fnends 
and  after  uttered  ye  same  to  Jlr.  Peirce  upon  his 
arrivaL  Whicli  was  to  this  purpose,  that  she  feared 
some  great  judgment  of  God  would  fall  upon  them, 
and  upt)n  her,  for  her  husband's  cause :  now  that  they 
were  to  remove  she  feared  to  fall  into  ye  Indians 
hands,  and  to  be  defiled  by  them  as  he  |had  defiled 
otlier  women ;  or  some  shuch  like  judgments,  as  ttod 
had  th  eateiied  David.  2  Sam.  12  11.  I  will  raise  up 
evil  against  ye  and  will  take  thy  wives  and  give  them, 
and  <fec."  And  upon  it  sliowed  how  he  had  wronged  her, 
as  first  lie  lia<l  a  bastard  by  another  before  they  were 
married,  an<l  she  liaving  some  inkling  of  some  iU-car- 
riage  tliat  way,  when  he  was  a  suitor  to  her,  she  tould 
him  what  slie  heard  and  denyed  him  ;  but  she  not  cer- 
tainly knowing  yt  thing,  otherwise  than  by  some  darke 
and  secret  mutterings,  he  not  only  stiffly  denied  it  but 
to  satisfy  her  tooke  a  solemn  oath  that  there  were  no 
shuch  matter.  Upon  which  she  gave  consente,  and 
married  with  him ;  but  afterwanis  it  was  found  true 
and  ye  bastard  brought  home  to  them.  She  then 
cliarged  him  with  liis  oath,  but  he  prayed  pardon,  and 
said  he  should  not  els  have  had  her.  And  yet  after- 
wards she  could  keep  no  maids,  but  he  would  be  med- 
dling with  tliem,  and  sometimes  she  hath  taken  him  in 
ye  manner,  as  tliey  lay  at  their  l)ed's  feet,  with  shuch 
other  circumstances  as  I  am  ashamed  to  relate.'' 

It  was  afterwards  learned  that  before  coming  to  this 


I    C 


113 


Gatherkd  Waiflkts. 


country  Minister  Lyfonl  "had  wonnd  himself  into  ye 
esteem  of  sandry  Godly  and  zelous  professors  in 
those  parts  who,  having  been  bnrtbened  with  ye  cere- 
monies in  England,  found  ther  some  liberty  to  their 
consciences ;  amongst  whom  were  these  two  men  which 
gave  this  evidence.  Amongst  ye  rest  of  his  hearers, 
there  was  a  godly  yonge  man  that  intended  to  marie, 
and  cast  his  affection  on  a  maide  which  lived  there 
abouts ;  but  desiring  to  chose  in  ye  Loni,  and  pref- 
fered  ye  fear  of  God  before  all  other  things,  before 
he  suffered  his  affection  to  rune  too  far,  he  resolved  to 
take  Mr.  Lyford'g  advice  and  judgmente  of  this  maid, 
(being  ye  minister  of  ye  place,)  and  so  broak  ye  mat- 
ter unto  him ;  and  he  promised  faithfully  to  informe 
him,  but  would  first  take  better  knowledge  of  her,  and 
have  private  conference  with  her;  and  so  had  sundry 
times ;  and  in  conclusion  commended  her  highly  to 
ye  young  man  as  a  very  fltte  wife  for  him.  So  they  were 
married  together;  but  some  time  after  mariage,  the 
woman  was  much  troubled  in  mind,  and  afflicted  in 
conscience,  and  did  nothing  but  weepe  and  moume, 
and  long  it  was  before  her  husband  could  get  of  her 
what  was  ye  cause.  But  at  length,  she  discovered  ye 
thing,  and  prayed  hira  to  forgive  her,  for  Lyford  had 
overcome  her,  and  defiled  her  body  before  marriage, 
after  he  had  commended  him  unto  her  for  a  husband, 
and  she  resolved  to  have  him  when  he  came  to  her  in 
that  private  way.  The  circumstances  I  forbear,  for 
they  would  offend  ehast  ears  to  hear  them  related, 
for  though  he  satisfied  his  lust  on  her,  yt  he  endeav- 
ored to  hinder  conception." 

To  fuUy  treat  of  their  abuse  of  Indian  women,  their 
debaucheries,  sensualities,  and  other  uncleanness  would 


An  Hi)1'r  AVitii  tiir  Pitkitan«  ani>  PaaRijiH.  ll.H 

take  n*  fur  beyond  the  icope  proposed,  nnd  it  woiiM 
prevent  the  consideration  of  some  of  their  other  evil 
deeds  and  shortH-ominRs.  We  shall,  therefore,  leave 
this  disgnsting  subject  and  mephitic  atmosphere  and 
seek  purer  air. 

PlUlKIM  ANII  niRI.AN  INTOLERA.VCK  AXD  HAKUMIIII'S. 

The  toleration  and  liberty  that  they  established  are 
the  kind  foreshadowe*!  in  the  compact  signed  on  board 
the  Maytloucr— the  riRht  to  dominate  over  all  and  to 
persecute,  to  e.teciite,  and  drive  hence  all  who  did  not 
yield  implicit  obedience  to  their  morbid  opinions  and 
wishes.  The  story  of  detention  in  the  stocks,  oi'  burn- 
ing holes  through  tongues  witli  led-hot  irons,  of  crop- 
ping  ears,  of  hanging,  of  banishment,  ami  penal  enac^ 
ments,  darken  and  disgrace  tlie  pages  of  early  Xew 
England  history,  and  they  are  too  well  known  to  need 
going  into  more  specific  detail  now. 

Of  the  toils,  hardships  and  <leprivations  of  the  Pil- 
grims and  Puritans,  of  which  so  much  has  been  patheti- 
cally told  and  written  about,  it  is  only  necessary  to 
say  that  they  wem  neither  more  nor  worse  than  mil- 
lions of  other  emigrants  and  pioneers  endured  while 
carving  out  homes  on  the  frontiers,  in  the  wilderness, 
and  in  other  out-posts  of  tliis  country  and  of  the  world. 

ALI.EGKD    PERSECUTIONS    HV    THE    INDIANS. 

Much  has  been  said  and  written  about  their  al- 
leged persecutions  by  the  Indians,  sympathy  claimed 
for  them  therefor,  and  unstinted  praise  bestowed 
upon  them  for  their  heroic  courage  and  fortitude  in 
conquering  and  e.xtermiuating  such  formidable  ene- 
mies. A  careful  reading  of  this  portion  of  their  his- 
tory will  surprise  most  people  when  they  learn  that 


ill 


114 


GaTIIKKKI)  W^iki.kth. 


for  tli«  moBt  pHrt  tliu  l'il|<riiii8,  I'uritADi,  and  tlieir 
iluHcendantR  and  Bm-i-uHRiin*,  were  the  B^K'^sgors.  It 
will  hUii  oct'UHion  no  little  Hiirprise  to  notice  the  preju- 
dice, l>iu8,  and  iinchriiitiau  hate  that  Ih  interjevteil  into 
tile  reccmlH.  In  all  their  dealiun»  with  the  ludianit, 
from  Himple  aitHofiation  ami  min);lin)(  in  the  every-tlay 
atTaini  of  life,  throu(;h  liartrr,  the  allejfed  purchuHe  of 
thoir  landH,  cold-blooded  niiii'ders,  and  open  warfare, 
tile  cruel  '.•uuninj?  unil  iujuntice  of  the  white  man  in 
eagily  dmcerned.  Choice  texts  of  scripture  are  ipioted 
in  great  abundance  to  prove  the  justice  of  their  aveng- 
inj?  deeds  Hj?ain»t  the  red  man,  and  tlie  sunshine  of 
( Jod's  favor  tiiereon — whereas  the  Aborigines,  the  cliil- 
liren  of  a  common  Father,  are  chanicterized  as  "Hends 
of  hell,"  "chihlren  of  tlie  Devil,"  and  the  like,  and  the 
work  of  despoiling  them  of  tlieir  property  and  lives 
as  christian  and  highly  praise-worthy  deeds. 


IMIII.A.NTIIKOI'Y    OK    TllK    INDIANS. 

During  many  years  after  the  landing  of  the  May- 
flower peace  and  trami'iility  reigned  between  the 
natives  anil  the  new-co.ners,  when  the  Aborigines, 
had  they  been  the  uncivilize<l  an<l  cruel  barbarians 
that  they  have  siniw  been  painted,  could  have  very 
easily  e.xterniinated  every  white  man.  During  all 
these  years  the  Pilgrims  and  Puritans  had  no  diti';- 
culty  in  getting  along  peaceably  h  itli  the  Inuians; 
but  when  the  cidonists  ".ultiplied  in  numbers  and 
waxed  strong  it  was  safe  to  encroach  upon,  debauch, 
rob,  exterminate  and  othe'-wise  wrong  them,  and  this 
they  did  not  iiesitate  to  do— and  with  deadly  results. 

Hubbard,  in  his  "Narrative  of  the  Indian  Wars," 
published  in  l(ii7,  says  in  reference  to  the  rapidly  in- 


An  HoITR  AV|-r||  TIIK  Pi'RITANK  AND  PlLnRIMH.  1 1 .1 

creasing  whit«  )M>piilatinn :  "Ami  iu  tliH  year  lil.'lo 
more  of  the  perHoni  iutereHteil  in  ftnid  Patent,  n-ith 
aeveral  other  perttons,  intenileil  to  venture  their  lives 
and  all  with  them,  transported  tliemselves  and  frienilH 
into  the  said  MiiitHachuHettH,  who  did  in  a  short  Hpace 
of  time  by  the  npcession  of  many  hundreds,  who  every 
year  flookec  after  them,  nialce  sutdi  increase,  that  in 
the  space  of  Hve  or  six  years,  there  were  twenty  con- 
siderable towns  Imilt  anil  peopled  ;  ami  many  of  the 
towns  tirst  planted  became  to  tilled  with  inhabitants, 
that  like  swarms  of  bees  'hey  were  ready  to  swarm, 
not  only  into  new  plantations,  hut  into  new  colonies." 

In  Kni;land  the  frenzy  for  seekinjf  fame  anil  fortune 
in  America  on  e  started  soon  became  epidemic,  and  it 
extended  so  rapidly  and  ftrew  to  such  alarniinjj  pro- 
portions that  the  Kin);  in  Hi40,  to  restrict  emif^ration, 
issued  a  royal  edict  forbiddin);  anyone  to  jjo  to  Amer- 
ica without  tirst  havin);  obtaiied  permission  from  the 
authorities. 

Although  Hubbard's  "Niir..icive  of  the  Indian 
Wars,"  just  quoted,  approvingly  abounds  with  the 
intolerance,  prejudice,  and  wrong-doings  of  the  Pil- 
grims and  Puritans,  like  so  many  others,  and  espec- 
ially their  brutal  barbarities  and  fiendish  atrocities  in 
their  warfare  of  extermination,  his  narrative  is  punctu- 
ated with  the  story  of  the  civilization  and  humanity 
of  the  red  men.  This  he  makes  clear  in  his  eiiumera- 
tion  of  the  reasons  why  the  Pilgrims  settled  where 
they  did — "and  finding  some  encouragement  from  the 
hopefulness  of  tlie  soil  and  courtesy  of  the  heathen. 
they  resolved  tlier?  to  make  their  abode  for  the 
future,  which  they  did,  laying  the  foundation  of  a 
new  colony,  which  from  the  remembrance  of  the  last 


Mr-4 


i'iiii 


116 


Gatiikred  AVaiflets. 


town  in  England,  they  sailed  from,  tbey  called  New 
Plymouth."  He  also  gives,  as  do  many  others,  abund- 
ant testimony  to  prove  the  brutalities  visited  upon  the 
dying  and  dead  bodies  of  the  Indians,  slain  in  war- 
fare and  otherwise,  by  dis-merabering,  dis-embowelling, 
cutting  off  their  heads,  handa,  and  other  members,  to 
carry  back  to  their  homes  iu  brutal  triumph — then  to 
mount  them  on  buildings,  or  poles  set  in  public  places, 
and  there  leave  tliem  for  rapacious  birds  or  the  ele- 
ments to  destroy;  but  he  is  frank  enough  to  admit 
that  "The  Indians  liow  barbarous  soever  in  their  own 
nature,  yet  civilly  treated  their  prisoners." 


DHADhOKl)  S    TKSTIMOKV. 

''15ut  about  ye  Hi  day  of  March  a  certain  Indian 
came  bouldly  amougst  tliem  and  spoke  to  tliem  in 
broken  Englisli,  whicli  tliey  could  well  understand, 
l)ut  marvelled  at.  At  length  they  understood  by  dis- 
course with  him,  tliat  he  was  not  of  these  parts,  but 
belonged  to  ye  easterne  parts  wher  some  English 
sliips  came  to  fhisli,  with  wliome  he  was  acquainted, 
ik  could  name  sundrie  of  tliem  by  tlieir  names,  amongst 
wliom  he  got  his  language.  He  became  protttable  to 
them  in  acquainting  them  with  nL-jny  things  concern- 
ing ye  state  of  ye  country  in  ye  easte-parts  wher  he 
lived,  which  was  afterwards  profitable  unto  them;  as 
also  of  ye  people  hear,  of  their  names,  number,  ite 
strength;  of  their  situaticm  it  distance  from  this 
place,  and  who  was  cheefe  amongst  tliem.  His  name 
wasSamaset;  lie  tould  them  also  of  another  Indian 
whose  name  was  iSi(iianto,  a  native  of  this  place,  who 
had  been  in  England  it  could  speake  better  English 
then  liim  selfe.     Being,  after  some  time  of  entertain- 


An  Hour  With  the  Puritaks  and  Pilgrims.  1 1 7 

mente  &  gifts,  diamisit,  a  wliile  after  lie  came  againe, 
ife  5  more  with  hira,  &,  they  brought  againe  all  ye 
tooles  that  were  stolen  away  before,  and  made  way  for 
ye  coming  of  their  great  Sachem,  called  Massasoyt ; 
who,  about  4  or  5  days  after  came  with  the  cheefe  of 
his  friends  and  other  attendance,  with  the  aforesaid 
S((uanto.  Witli  whom,  after  friendly  entertainmente 
it  some  gifts  given  him,  they  made  a  peace  with  him 
which  hath  now  continued  this  24  years." 

During  the  spring  following  their  arrival  in  the 
country  Sijuauto  tauglit  tliem  how  to  plant  and  culti- 
vate corn.  In  the  wonls  of  Bradford,  "Afterwards 
they  (as  many  as  wer  able)  began  to  plant  ther  corns, 
in  which  service  Squanto  stood  them  in  great  stead, 
showing  them  both  ye  manner  how  to  set  it,  and  after 
how  to  dress  &  tend  it.  Also  he  tonld  them  excepte 
they  gott  fish  <te  set  with  it  (in  these  old  grounds)  it 
would  come  to  nothing,  and  he  showed  them  yt  midle 
of  April  tliey  should  have  store  enough  come  up  ye 
brooke,  by  which  they  begane  to  biiild,  and  tauglit 
them  how  to  take  it,  and  wher  to  get  other  provis- 
sions  necessary  for  tliera ;  all  of  which  they  found 
true  by  triall  <fe  experience." 

The  foregoing  brief  extract  furnishes  ample  food 
for  thought  and  retlection.  In  view  of  subsequent  cal- 
umnies and  vilifications  so  industriously  and  so  suc- 
eessfuly  outpoured  upon  the  aboriginal  settlers  and 
owners  of  the  soil  by  tliose  who  unjustly  deprived 
them  of  their  birthright,  thi.s  evidence  of  their  civiliz- 
ation, toleration  and  humanity  is  no  less  startling  tlian 
surprising  and  pleasing — it  is  so  far  removed  from 
and  so  completely  negatives  tiie  generally  accepted 
view   of   the   bloodthirsty   hostility   of  the   Indians 


*l    L 


118 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


toward  the  early  settlers.  Bradford's  testimony  as 
given  above  is  amply  buttressed  and  supported  by 
able  and  unprejudiced  autliorities  during  all  the  years 
since ;  but  in  spite  of  all  the  evidence  to  the  contrary 
the  prejudices  and  falsehoods  of  the  past  are  still 
fondly  maintaine  I  and  propagated  to  justify  the  sinis- 
ster  conduct  and  injustice  of  the  white  man  in  earlier 
times.  A  bibliograpliy  of  all  the  works  giving  simi- 
lar testimony  to  Bradford's  concerning  the  philan- 
tliropy  and  friendship  of  the  Indians,  and  which  they 
manifested  toward  the  early  settlers,  would  iill  a 
large  volume,  but  we  must  be  content  with  that  of  a 
few  only.  These  we  shall  select  from  among  those 
wlio  made  a  careful  study  of  the  Indian  character 
through  long  years  of  residence  among  and  associa- 
tion with  them  in  widely  different  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, men  amply  qualified  to  observe  and  pass  judgment, 
men  of  probity  and  candor,  men  whom  the  historians 
and  scholars  of  the  world  accept  as  authorities. 


TESTIMONV    OK    CADWAI,I.ADKR    COLDEN. 

Cadwallader  C'olden  in  his  great  work,  "The  History 
of  the  Five  Indian  Nations" — and  these  have  been  ad- 
mittedly the  most  cruel  and  relentless  Indians  and  far- 
thest removed  from  civilization — says : 

"The  hospitality  of  these  Indians  is  no  less  remark- 
able than  their  other  virtues ;  as  soon  as  any  stranger 
comes  they  are  sure  to  offer  him  victuals.  If  there  be 
several  in  the  company,  and  come  from  afar,  one  of 
their  best  houses  is  cleaned  an<l  given  up  for  their 
entertainment.  Tlieir  complaisance  on  these  occasions 
goes  even  farther  tlian  Christian  civility  allows  of,  as 
they  have  no  otlier  rule  for  it  than  their  furnishing 


An  Hour  With  the  Puritans  and  Pilgrims.  Ill) 

their  guest  with  everything  they  think  will  be  agree- 
able to  him I  can  give  two  strong  instances  of 

the  hospitality  of  the  Moliawks  which  fell  under  my 
own  observation  ;  and  which  show  that  they  have  the 
very  same  notion  of  hospitality  which  we  find  in  tlie 
ancient  poets. 

"When  I  was  last  in  the  llohawk  country,  the 
Sachems  told  nie  tl:  at  they  liad  an  Englishman  among 
their  people,  a  servant  who  liad  run  away  from  his 
master  in  Xew  York.  I  immediately  tould  them  that 
they  must  deliver  him  up.  >'o,  they  answered,  we 
never  serve  any  man  so  who  puts  himself  under  our 
protection.  On  this  I  insisted  on  the  injury  tliey 
(lid  thereby  to  Ids  master;  and  tliey  aUowe<l  it  might 
be  an  injury,  and  replied,  thougli  we  never  will  deliver 
him  up  we  are  willing  to  pay  the  value  of  the  servant 
to  the  master. 

"Another  man  made  his  escape  from  tlie  gaol  of 
Albany  where  he  was  in  prison  on  an  execution  for 
debt;  the  Mohawks  received  1,  ;i,  and  as  they  pro- 
tected him  against  the  Sheriff  and  his  officers,  tliey  not 
only  paid  the  debt  for  him,  but  gave  him  land,  over 
and  above  sufficient  for  a  good  farm,  thereon  he  lived 
when  I  was  last  there.  To  this  it  may  be  added,  all 
their  extraordinary  visits  are  accompanied  with  giv- 
ing and  receiving  presents  of  some  value ;  as  we  learn 
likewise  from  Homer  was  the  practice  in  old  times. 

"Theft  is  very  scandalous  among  them;  and  it  is 
necessary  it  should  be  so  among  all  Indians,  since  they 
have  no  locks  but  those  of  their  minds  to  preserve 
their  goods. 

"After  their  prisoners  are  secured  they  never  offer 
them  the  least  mal-treatment,  l)ut,  on  the  (Contrary,  will 


120 


Gatiiebkd  Waiflets. 


starve  themselves  rataer  than  snfler  them  to  want; 
and  I  have  been  always  assured  that  there  is  not  one 
instance  of  their  offering  the  least  violence  to  the  chas- 
tity of  any  woman  that  was  their  captive. 

"  There  is  one  vice  which  Indians  have  all  fallen  into 
since  their  acquaintance  with  the  Christians,  and  of 
which  they  could  rot  be  found  guilty  before  that  time, 
that  is  drunkenness.  The  traders  with  whom  they 
chieily  converse  are  so  far  from  giving  them  any  ab- 
horrence of  this  vice  that  they  encourage  it  all  they 
can,  not  only  for  the  liquor  that  they  sell,  but  tliat  they 
may  have  an  opportunity  to  impose  upon  them.  And 
this,  as  they  chiefly  drink  spirits,  has  destroyed 
greater  numbers  than  all  their  wars  and  diseases  put 
together." 

TESTIMONY    OF   DE    LA    PATRIE. 

Monsieur  De  la  Patrie,  in  his  "History  of  North 
America,"  says  :  ""When  we  speak  of  the  Five  Nations 
in  France,  they  are  thought,  by  a  common  mistake,  to 
be  mere  barbarians  always  thirsting  after  human  blood; 
but  their  true  character  is  very  different.  They  are 
indeed  the  most  formidable  people  in  North  America, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  are  so  politick  and  judicious  as 
well  can  be  conceived,  and  this  appears  from  the  man- 
agement of  all  the  affairs  which  they  transact,  not  only 
with  the  French  and  English,  but  likewise  with  almost 
all  the  Indian  nations  of  this  vast  continent." 

TESTIMONY    OF    GEOBUE    CATLIN. 

Seventy-five  years  ago  when  countless  thousands  of 
Buffaloes  roamed  the  western  plains  of  this  country, 
and  the  tepees  of  the  Indians  were  the  only  habita- 
tions, the  artist,  George  Catlin,  ventured  thither  to 


li 


An  HofH  With  the  Puritans  and  Pilqrims.   121 

sturly  and  depict  the  rod  man  in  his  home.  As  apt 
with  pen  as  pencil  lie  has  given  to  the  world  his  monu- 
mental volumes  "  The  North  Amt^rican  Indians."  In 
his  opening  chapter  he  records :  "  I  have  roamed  about 
from  time  to  time  during  seven  or  eight  years,  visiting 
and  associating  with  some  three  or  four  hundred  thou- 
sand of  these  people,  under  an  almost  infinite  variety 
of  circumstances ;  and  from  the  many  and  decided  vol- 
untary acts  of  their  hospitality  and  kindness,  I  feel 
bound  to  pronounce  them  by  nature,  a  kind  and  hospi- 
table people.  I  have  been  welcomed  generally  in  their 
country,  and  treated  to  the  best  that  they  could  give 
me,  without  any  charges  made  for  my  board ;  they  have 
often  escorted  me  through  their  enemies'  country  at 
some  hazard  to  their  own  lives,  and  aided  me  in  pass- 
ing mountains  and  rivers  with  my  awkward  baggage ; 
and  under  all  these  circumstances  of  exposure,  no 
Indian  ever  betrayed  me,  struck  me  a  blow,  or  stole 
from  me  a  shilling's  worth  of  my  property  that  I  am 
aware  of.     .     .     . 

"  The  Indians  of  North  America  .  .  .  were 
originally  the  undisputed  owners  of  the  soil,  and  got 
their  title  to  the  lands  from  the  Great  Spirit  who  cre- 
ated them  on  it,  —  were  once  a  happy  and  flourishing 
people,  enjoying  all  the  comforts  and  luxuries  of  life 
which  they  knew  of,  and  consequently  cared  for !  — 
were  sixteen  millions  in  numbers,  and  sent  that  num- 
ber of  daily  prayers  to  t'.ie  Almighty,  and  thanks  for 
His  goodness  and  protection.  Their  country  was 
entered  by  the  white  men,  but  a  few  hundred  years 
since;  and  thirty  millions  of  these  are  now  scuffling 
for  the  goods  and  luxuries  of  lite,  over  the  bones  and 
ashes  of  *"'elve  millions  of  red  men;  six  millions  of 


k 


122 


Qathebed   Waiflets. 


whom  have  fallen  victims  to  the  smallpox,  and  the  re- 
mainder to  the  sword,  the  bayonet  and  whiskey;  all 
of  which  means  of  their  death  and  destruction  have 
been  introduced  and  visited  upon  them  by  acquisitive 
white  men ;  and  by  white  men  air  j,  whose  forefathers 
were  welcomed  and  embraced  in  the  land  where  the 
poor  Indian  met  and  fed  them  with  '  ears  of  green 
corn  and  with  pemican.' 

"Of  the  two  millions  remaining  alive  at  this  time, 
about  one  million,  four  hundred  thousand  are  already 
the  miserable  victims  and  dupes  of  white  men's 
cupidity,  degraded,  discouraged,  and  lost  in  the  wilder- 
ing  maze  that  is  produced  by  whiskey  and  its  concomi- 
tant vices;  and  the  remaining  number  are  yet  un- 
aroused  and  un  "nticed  from  their  wild  haunts  or  their 
primitive  modes  by  the  dread  of  love  of  white  men  and 
their  allurements." 

Of  their  civilization  and  everyday  life,  Williams, 
in  his  "History  of  Vermont,"  A.D.  1794,  records: 
"Among  the  savages  hospitality  prevailed  to  a  high  de- 
gree, and  acted  with  its  full  force.  The  Europeans 
everj-vvhere  found  the  most  friendly  and  cordial  recep- 
tion when  they  first  came  among  the  savages;  and  from 
their  hospitality  they  derived  all  tht  assistance  the 
savages  could  afford  them.  It  was  not  until  disputes 
and  differences  liad  taken  place  that  the  Indians  be- 
came unfriendly.  Even  now  an  unarmed,  defenseless 
stranger  tliat  repairs  to  them  for  relief  and  protection 
is  sure  to  find  safety  and  assistance  in  their  hospitality. 
The  friendsliip  of  the  Indian  is  always  a  very  strong 
and  vigorous  affection.  His  passions  unsubdued,  un- 
disciplined and  ungoverned,  always  act  with  force  and 
vigor;  whatever  be  the  object  of  them,  the  passion 
itself  is  always  impetuous  and  strong.    No  bounds  are 


Ax  HoiiR  With  the  PuRtTAWn  and  Pit.orims.  12.T 

set  to  his  resentment  and  revenge  wlien  injured ;  and 
no  length  of  time  will  obliterate  the  memory  of  a 
favor.  The  same  impetuosity  an<l  perseverance  with 
which  he  pursnes  his  enemy,  is  employed  to  assist  and 
preserve  his  friend.  In  this  respect  the  Indian  attach- 
ments have  fully  e((ualled  anything  that  is  to  be  foun<i 
in  the  history  of  man.  Several  of  their  best  concerted 
expeditions  have  failed  through  the  an.xiety  of  an  in- 
dividual to  preserve  a  friend  from  the  common  ven- 
geance and  destruction. 

"  Trained  up  to  the  most  refinetl  cunning  and  dissim- 
ulation in  war  the  Indian  carries  nothing  of  this  into 
the  affairs  of  commerce ;  but  is  fair,  open  and  honest 
in  his  trade,  lie  was  accustomed  to  no  falsehood  or 
deception  in  tlie  management  of  liis  barter.  And  he 
was  astonished  at  the  deceit,  knavery, an<l  fraud  of  the 
European  traders.  He  had  no  bolts  or  locks  to  guard 
against  stealing,  nor  did  he  ever  conceive  his  property 
was  in  any  danger  of  being  stolen  by  any  of  his  tribe. 
All  that  train  of  infamous  and  unmanly  vices,  which 
arise  from  avarice,  were  almost  unknown  to  the  savage 
state.  Lying  and  falsehood  were  viewed  with  horror 
and  detestation.  When  they  found  these  vices  com- 
mon among  some  of  the  Europeans,  tlie  Indians 
viewed  tliem  as  a  cornipt  and  odious  race,  in  whose 
truth,  justice  and  declarations,  no  faith  could  be  placed. 
They  had  no  name  for  adultery  or  rape.  Quarreling, 
contention  and  discord  with  their  numerous  ill  effects 
v\  ere  but  little  known  among  tlie  members  of  tlie  same 
tribe." 

Benjamin  Franklin  also  gave  testimony  before  the 
thrones  and  courts  of  Europe  and  elsewhere  to  the 
early  civilization  and  humanity  of  the  American  In- 


124 


Gatiikrkd  Waiki.eth. 


diang,  and  in  this  lie  is  supported  by  such  a  galaxy  of 
statesmeD  and  autliurs  that  their  mere  enumeration 
would  reiiuire  unpardonable  limits. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  when  the  Indians  were 
decimated,  debauched,  persecuted,  robbed  of  their 
lands,  and  were  brought  to  bay,  they  did  just  what  all 
animal  nature — brute  and  human — does  under  the  cir- 
cumstances,— contended  for  their  freedom  and  rights, 
and  stnick  back  as  best  they  knew.  For  defeniliug 
their  persons  and  property  from  the  encroachments 
and  robberies  of  the  wliites,  and  avenging  their 
wrongs,  they  have  been  denounced  in  violent  lang- 
uage and  in  immeasured  terms ;  but  for  cold-blooded 
bnitality  and  fiendish  atrocity,  their  worst  deeds  are 
multiplied  and  surpas.sed  by  those  of  their  white  op- 
pressors and  traducers. 


SIIRVIVAI,   OK    ITKITAN    INTOI.KRANCK. 

^lauy  of  the  descendants  and  successore  of  the  Puri- 
tans, even  in  our  day,  have  not  discovered  that  the 
world  has  taken  vast  stri<les  forward  and  upward 
since  the  landing  of  the  Jlayflower.  The  bigotry, 
intolerance,  and  superlative  arrogance  that  prompted 
Endicott.  a  typical  Puritan,  to  cut  out  the  cross  from 
the  flag,  and  (iovernor  Dudley,  another,  to  leave 
a  legacy  to  Hananl  CVdlege  to  provide  an  annual  lec- 
ture against  "popery,"  may  not  now  be  so  openly 
avowed,  but  wlio  that  knows  our  decaying  country 
towns,  or  centei-s  of  population  where  descendants  of 
the  Pilgrims  and  Puritans,  and  their  like,  are  in  the 
ascendant,  will  deny  tliat  their  bigotry,  intolsrance  and 
proscriptive  sentiments  still  survive  and  are  as  opera- 
tive for  evil  and  injustice  as  in  earlier  times.     They 


An  IIoi'R  With  tiik  Pi^ritanh  and  PiuiBiMrt.  12.") 


Meem  to  (leli((ht  in  revelling;  in  the  intolerent,  unjii»t 
and  murky  atmoapliure  of  the  past  rather  than  to 
breathe  in  the  spirit  of  tnith,  riglit,  and  justice  in  the 
Munsiiine  of  tiie  present.  It  was  only  last  year  that  a 
distinguished  e.x-(toverni>i'  of  tliis  State,  lion.  John  I). 
Long,  delivered  iin  address  at  the  ter-centenary  oele- 
bration  of  the  foundation  of  the  First  Church  in 
Plymouth.  lie  had  respect  for  tlie  truth,  and  he  told 
his  hearers  some  of  the  milder  shortcomings  of  the 
Puritans.  This  aroused  a  whirlwind  of  opposition 
and  denuncittticm  not  only  among  his  hearers  but  also 
throughout  the  country — their  periodical  publications, 
ministers,  portly  matrons  and  elder  spinsters  joining 
in  the  refrain.  They  have  incense  in  abundance  to 
burn  at  the  shrine  of  adulation,  V)ut  only  withering 
contempt  an<l  denunciation  for  even  a  moiety  of  un- 
complimentary truth — as  ir^  )lerant  as  ever. 

"I  am  a  Puritan  of  the  Puritans " — like  many  an- 
other— publicly,  loudly  ajd  persistently  proclaimed 
an  honored  son  of  Massachusetts  on  the  rostrum,  in 
the  lialls  of  legislation,  and  in  the  press  during  all  the 
years  i-f  his  lengthened  life.  Proudly,  in  stilted  phrase, 
and  with  all  tlie  art  of  oratory  that  he  could  com- 
mand, he  presented  to  the  State  of  ISlassachusetts  the 
manuscript  cf>py  of  "  Bradford's  History  of  Plimoth 
Plantation,"  recently  brought  over  from  England,  and 
from  which  much  of  what  I  have  said  has  been  quoted 
verbatim  el  literatum,  and  in  an  impassioned  peror- 
ation, as  published  iu  the  press  reports  at  the  time — 
which  he,  doubtless,  would  have  been  ghid  to  have 
considered  the  oratorical  effort  of  his  life— in  the 
characteristic  vaunting  language  so  freipiently  encoun- 
tered when   anything   concerning   the  Pilgrims   and 


11   ' 


i 


'U 


13(1 


GATIlKBKn    WArKLKTK. 


Puritans  is  under  consiileration,  bbiiI  :  "Aside  from 
the  Kospelg  as  they  came  from  the  hands  of  the  in- 
Rpired  writers  there  is  no  greater  }mnk  in  the  world." 
On  a  little  further  reflection,  the  fervor  anil  thrill  of 
the  occasion  having  passed  away,  perhaps  it  dawned 
upon  his  mind  tiiat  the  gospels  as  tliey  came  from  the 
hands  of  the  inspired  writers  are  no  longer  in  exis- 
tence, which  would  leave  the  remarkable  work  of 
Kradford  the  greatest  book  in  the  world  ! — or  perhaps 
he  may  have  subseijuently  read  the  book  and  been  so 
surprised  and  disappointed  at  its  contents  that  his  ad- 
miration dropped  to  more  commensurate  and  com- 
mendable proportions.  Tliis  portion  of  his  speech 
has  been  modified,  and  it  now  appears  in  the  book : — 
"There  is  nothing  like  it  in  human  annals  since  the 
story  of  Bethlehem."     Save  the  mark ! 

Those  who  knew  him  can  never  think  that  George 
Frisbie  Hoar  had  ever  read  the  book  or  been  familiar 
with  its  contents  when  he  made  this  speech.  No  one 
who  ever  knew  him  can  believe  that  he  was  capable 
of  so  lowering  himself  or  lending  himself  to  so  endorse 
such  a  record  of  crime,  commonplaces,  and  the  frailties 
of  human  nature.  No  one  wlio  ever  knew  him  can 
think  that  he  could  ever  believe  and  profess  the  mor- 
bid religious  tenets  or  share  the  sentiments  of  the  Pil- 
grims and  Puritans,  nor  lend  his  presence  to,  much  less 
participate  in,  the  whippings  at  the  post,  the  brandings, 
the  ear  croppings,  the  tongue  borings  witli  red  hot 
irons,  the  hanging  of  witches ;  nor  that  he  could  ever 
sanction  their  tlieocratie,  arl)itrary  and  intolerant  civil 
government,  have  framed  or  aided  in  the  execution  of 
the  law  of  banishment  against  Itoger  AN'illiams,  the  un- 
christian penal  enactments  and  their  more  unchristian 


An  Hoi'R  With  tiik  Puritans  and  Pilorims.   127 

pnforcement  UKiiinHt  (juakvrx,  "  PapiMta,"  unil  others, 
their  cruel  and  unjuHt  treatment  of  the  Indiana,  the 
debauchery  of  Indian  women,  and  their  many  other 
acts  of  injustice  and  wrong. 

It  may  be  well  to  axk  why  men  compromise  their  in- 
telligence and  manhood  and  prefer  rhetorical  display 
to  truth;  and  if  the  loud  and  oft  proclaimed  admira- 
tion, loyalty  and  love  for  the  Puritamt  and  their  con- 
duct, as  recorded  by  Bradford  himself  —  even  when 
controverted  and  negatived  by  the  conduct  of  those 
who  proclaim  them  —  constitute  greatness,  and  for 
whom  monuments  of  sculptured  marble  and  emluring 
bronze  are  erected  at  great  expense  in  public  places  to 
perpetuate  their  memories! 


conclusion. 


Where  the  evidence  is  so  abundant,  clear,  conclu- 
sive and  admitted — where  "lie  who  runs  may  read" — 
no  attempt  at  analysis  or  elucidation  is  necessary'.  It 
is  clear  from  the  admissions  of  the  Pilgrims  and  Puri- 
tans themselves  that  they  were  arrogant,  narrow,  big- 
oted, intolerant,  mercenary,  and  sinful.  No  words  in 
the  English  language  can  be  i'ound  to  make  these  alle- 
gations more  specific  or  emphatic  than  they  have  re- 
corded against  themselves.  The  crimes  of  murder, 
sodomy,  adultery,  fornication,  perjury,  defalcation,  de- 
ception, intolerance,  uncharii.bleness,  and  other  un- 
christian degradations  and  shortcomings  of  human 
nature,  are  proven  against  them  by  an  abundance  of 
unquestioned  evidence. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  what  good  v.'ill  it  do  at  the 
beginning  of  the  twentieth  century  to  put  them  in  the 
public  pillory  and  expose  them  to  the  scorn,  contempt, 


128 


Oathired  Waifi.eth. 


and  rightoouH  condemnation  of  others!  This  reason- 
able and  proper  question  deserves  a  reasonable  and 
proper  answer.  In  tliis  connection  it  is  sufficient  to 
say  that  the  sliortconiinKs  and  cruel  injustice  of  the 
Pilgrims  and  Puritans  did  not  end  with  their  day,  but 
in  one  fonn  or  another  —  although  somewhat  emascu- 
luti'd  and  attenuated,  and  in  a  less  formal,  public  and 
offensive  manner — has  survivi'd  all  the  years  since  and 
is  still  operative.  We  have  only  to  recall  in  merest 
outline  tlie  bitterness,  persecution  and  injustice  dealt 
out  by  them  and  their  descendants  and  successors,  dur- 
ing all  the  years  since  their  coming,  to  Roman  Catho- 
lics, the  barbarity  attendant  upon  the  celebration  of 
the  fiendish  slaughter  of  Father  Basle  when  his  scalp, 
for  which  a  bounty  of  one  hundred  pounds  was  offere<l 
and  paid  by  the  Great  and  General  Court  of  Massachu- 
setts, was  carried  in  public  pro'''" si",:  thronp;h  the 
streets  of  Boston  and  grossest  indignities  heaped 
thereon,  the  bigotry  that  prompted  the  cutting  out  of 
the  cross  from  the  flag  by  Governor  Endicott  "because 
it  savored  of  poperie,  "the  legacy  that  Governor  Dud- 
ley left  to  Harvard  College  to  provide  for  an  annual 
lecture  against  Roman  ^  itholicism  and  Romon  Catho- 
lics, the  outpouring  of  damnation  and  wrs'h  that 
greeted  the  enactment  of  the  Quebec  Act  by  England, 
the  violent  debates  in  the  legislatures  of  the  different 
states  against  Catholics  and  the  Catholic  Church  at 
the  time  of  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution,  the  alien 
and  sedition  laws  to  harass  and  curtail  the  rights  of 
Roman  Catholics  and  the  persecutions  thereunder,  the 
burning  of  tlie  Ursuline  convent  on  Mount  Benedict, 
near  Boston,  as  a  result  of  pulpit  denunciation  and  ap- 
peals to  unchristian  hate  in  which  Reverend  Lyman 


Aw  Kiii'n  With  this  Pi-KiTANfi  and  Piuirihr.   129 


Beccber,  father  of  Henry  Ward  Beeoher,  of  unBsvory 
Beecher-Tilton  notoriety,  was  a  leader,  and  for  whicli 
no  compencation  Iihm  yet  been  made,  tlie  murders,  bnm- 
ing  of  churobeg,  itcbooU  and  convents  and  other  perse- 
cutions of  the  Know  Nothings  throughout  the  country, 
the  more  recent  efforts  along  these  same  lines  by  the 
A.  P.  A.,  the  proscription,  opposition  and  ostracism  so 
generally  and  systematically  manifested  against  Cath- 
olics in  every  community  today  wherever  it  is  possi- 
ble —  and  their  numbers  are  the  only  barrier. 

Arrogance,  intolerance,  proscription  and  hate  are 
the  well  kno«rn  and  admitted  foundation  stones  of 
Puritanism,  and  the  civil  and  religions  liberty  that 
we  enjoy,  which  are  such  proud  distinguishing  charac- 
teristics of  our  country,  and  of  which  all  patriotic  and 
fair  minded  people  are  so  justly  proud,  and  which 
have  contributed  so  much  to  its  greatness,  owe  nothing 
whatever  to  Puritanism,  to  its  doctrines,  or  to  its  prac- 
tices. In  tlie  interent  «^  truth  and  justice,  admiration, 
thanksgiving  ana  praise  should  be  bestowed  where 
due  and  wii>iheld  where  undeserved,  and  this  cannot 
be  too  often  nor  too  publicly  proclaimed  and  empha- 
sized. 

It  is  well  and  truly  said  that "  nothing  is  ever  settled 
until  it  is  settled  right,"  and  this  alone,  if  no  other 
reason  existed,  is  sufficient  to  prompt  every  efTort  to 
expose  and  dethrone  error,  falsehood,  and  injustice  — 
to  the  end  that  truth  may  reign  ar.J  right  may  rule. 


H 


REMINISCENT  AND  OTHEEWISE. 

LIFE  IN   IHE   EASTERN   TOWNSHIPS   OF   THE   PROVINCE   OP 
QUEBEC,   CANADA,  FIFTY   YEARS  AGO. 


"  Sliould  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 
And  never  brought  to  mindf 
Should  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot 
And  days  of  auld  lang  syne?  " 

THE  century  (nineteenth)  now  drawing  to  a  close 
has  been  the  most  marvelous  in  the  world's 
history.  So  readily  do  we  adapt  ourselves  to 
changed  and  improved  conditions  that  it  is  hard  to 
realize  the  manifold  and  wonderful  changes  wrought 
during  this  brief  space  of  time. 

Many  are  now  living  wlio  saw  the  birtli  of  the  luci- 
fer  match,  that  great  invention  which  has  spread  to 
the  furthermost  limits  of  the  civilized  world  and  which 
has  now  become  so  indispensable.  Suppose  this 
simple  looking  match  and  all  knowledge  thereof  blotted 
out  of  existence  and  the  world  thrown  back  upon 
primitive  methods  to  preserve  or  obtain  fire  —  what 
then?  Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  ancients  regarded  fire 
as  possessing  attributes  of  the  Deity  and  so  entitled 
to  their  homage  and  worship? 

Others  are  now  living  who  were  in  existence  long 
years  before  stoves  came  into  general  use  in  the  smaller 
hamlets  and  remote  settlements  for  heatiig  and  cook- 
ing, and  who  well   remember  when   the  first  clock, 


REMINlaCENT   AND   OTHERWISE.  131 

v-i  iti..  'jignu  and  carpet  was  brought  into  the  neighbor- 
hood to  beci'Tie  the  nine  days'  wonder  and  its  owner 
the  envied  o  le  in  the  settlement. 

A^d  ' 'any  more  there  are  whose  birth  antedates  or 
was  contemporary  with  the  electric  telegraph,  locomo- 
tive railway,  power  loom,  sewing  machine,  mowing 
machine,  harvester,  cream  separator,  and  the  like, 
while  those  not  now  beyond  mature  youth  recall  the 
advent  of  the  bicycle,  trolley  car,  telephone,  automo- 
bile and  the  thousand  and  one  discoveries  and  inven- 
tions which  have  blotted  out  time  and  space,  lightened 
the  burdens  of  the  toilers,  and  which  so  minister  to  the 
comfort  and  happiness  of  all  as  to  add  years  of  longev- 
ity to  the  span  of  life. 


1 


fi 


KALEIDOSCOPIC    CHANGES. 

These  kaleidoscopic  changes  follow  each  other  so 
fast,  and  they  so  soon  become  so  indispensable  and 
absorbing,  that  they  seem  to  swallow  up  and  obscure 
if  they  do  not  entirely  obliterate  the  past. 

However  interesting  and  important  these  may  be 
to  the  student  and  philosopher,  neither  time  nor  space 
will  permit  us  to  consider  even  the  most  important 
and  valuable  of  them  categorically,  chronologically,  or 
in  the  order  of  their  importance  and  value  as  contrib- 
uting factors  to  our  high,  complex-,  and  rapidly  advanc- 
ing civilization. 

A  much  less  pretentious  and  more  agreeable  task  is 
proposed,  which  it  is  hoped  will  not  be  found  without 
interest  to  the  reader.  It  is  to  try  to  furnish  the  youth 
of  the  present  day,  particularly  those  residing  in  the 
Eastern  Townships,  wherein  the  writer  was  born  and 
where   his  youth  was  passed,  with  a  picture  of  the 


i:!2 


Gatiiebed  Waiflets. 


everyday  life  of  tLe  people  before  the  advent  of  most 
of  the  wonder-working  and  revolutionining  agents  al- 
luded to — when  primitive,  very  primitive  conditions 
very  generally  prevailed  throughout  this  part  of  the 
country. 

It  is  not  claimed  that  there  were  no  exceptions  in 
individual  cases  or  in  a  particular  locality  to  what  fol- 
lows— no  general  description  will  apply  in  every  case, 
especially  when  sketched  in  merest  outline — but  it  is 
confidently  believed  that  the  substantial  accuracy  of 
what  is  herein  related  will  be  affirmed  by  those  in 
nearly  every  neighborhood  now  nearing  or  beyond  the 
three-  score  and  ten  years  of  the  scriptures. 


THE    ORIOINAL     SETTLERS. 

The  original  setti 'ra  were  largely  strangers  from 
many  lands  and  from  many  conditions  in  life.  The 
opening  up  to  ownership  and  settlement  of  that  por- 
tion of  tlie  Pi'ovince  of  Quebec  now  known  as  the 
Eastern  Townships — at  that  time  the  forest  prim- 
eval— as  has  always  in  the  history  of  the  world  been 
true  elsewhere  when  sub-<lividing  and  conveying  to 
individuals  in  fee  simple  territory  obtained  by  dis- 
covery or  conquest,  attracted  wide  attention  and  inter- 
est— not  only  in  the  United  States  but  also  throughout 
the  British  Isles  where  England  made  great  efforts  to 
people  this  part  of  the  country  with  her  subjects  to  pre- 
vent it  from  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  earlier 
French  colonists  along  tlie  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence. 
Tlie  country  to  the  southward  had  been  occupied  for 
more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty  years,  its  forests  were 
depleted,  its  soil  exhausted,  and  now  some  of  the 
more  adventurous  and  enterprising  among  them,  and 


Rkminiscent  and  Otherwise.  13;) 

who  were  devotedly  loyal  to  the  stars  and  stripes, 
took  advantage  of  the  new  opportunities  offered  to 
add  to  their  worldly  possessions  and  to  further  their 
personal  interests.  Loyalty  to  their  own  interests  and 
not  loyalty  to  any  king  or  oonntry  prompted  them  to 
remove  to  this  part  of  Canada,  whither  they  also 
brought  their  old  time  enterprise,  skill  and  ability. 
Here  they  built  roads,  bridges,  saw  and  grist  mills, 
tanneries,  stores  and  the  like.  They  did  their  full 
share  in  the  building  up  and  development  of  this 
part  of  the  country,  and  by  their  accomplishments  and 
contributions  they  wrote  the  brightest  pages  in  the 
early  history  of  the  Townships.  They  left  to  their 
descendants  and  successors  the  legacy  of  sterling  enter- 
prise, earnest  and  successful  endeavor,  thrift,  frugality 
and  manliness— laudable  traits,  the  afterglow  of  which 
still  survives  to  glorify  and  inspire. 

A  few  of  tlie  early  Dutch  settlers  of  New  Amster- 
dam and  along  the  Hudson  river  also  immigrated  to 
these  parts,  but  whether  because  of  the  paucity  of  their 
numbers  or  because  of  tlieir  phlegmatic  temperament 
and  lethargy  tliey  were  never  a  factor  in  the  develop- 
ment and  progress  of  their  new  home.  The  antiquary 
and  historian  will  find  but  little  to  reward  their  most 
energetic  and  persistent  endeavors  to  prove  their  pres- 
ence in  the  country. 

The  coming  and  settlement  of  a  very  considerable 
contingent  of  Hessian  ((iermun)  soldiers  added  consid- 
erable to  the  numbers  of  tlie  early  settlers.  Their  pre- 
vious history  was  such  tliat  they  found  it  desirable  if 
not  very  obligatory  to  obscure  if  not  to  wlioUy  conceal 
their  identity — and  this  may  serve  to  e.xplain  why  so 
little  is  known  of  their  earlier  history,  why  they  and 


I  - 
i  '■' 


iUi 


134 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


their  descendants  have  been  so  reticent  and  reluctant 
to  contribute  to  the  historical  knowledge  of  the  Town- 
ships, and  of  their  important  material  contribution  to 
the  development  and  welfare  of  their  adopted  country. 
It  is  well  known  that  Xing  George  III  hired  about 
thirty  thousand  Hessian  (German)  soldiers  to  make 
war  upon  his  own  flesh  and  blood  in  the  revolted  col- 
onies in  America.  These  were  to  be  returned  to  their 
own  country  with  a  stipulated  price  to  be  paid  for  each 
soldier  who  did  not  return,  and  the  price  to  be  paid 
for  three  persons  woundeil  was  to  be  the  same  as  for 
one  who  did  not  return.  Twelve  thousand  five  hundred 
and  si.xty  did  not  return,  and  for  these  and  the  serv- 
ices of  those  who  did  return,  England  paid  one  million 
seven  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  pounds  sterling. 
It  is  a  matter  of  record  that  the  loss  iu  battle  and  by 
disease  was  much  less  than  the  number  of  the  miss- 
ing— and  desertion  explains  the  difference.  It  will  be 
remembered  that  the  colonists  in  rebellion  were  in 
sore  distress  for  munitions  of  war,  food  and  clothing 
for  their  own  men,  and  that  when  Abercrombie  sur- 
rendered at  Saratoga  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
and  embarrassment  that  they  were  able  to  furnish 
food  for  the  surrendered  prisoners  of  war.  This  was 
equally  true  elsewhere  and  the  colonists  were  only  too 
glad  to  connive  at  the  desertion  of  the  Hessian  mer- 
cenaries, who  had  no  heart  in  the  war,  and  who  were 
only  too  glad  to  avail  themselves  of  an  opportunity  to 
escape.  Of  course  they  might  be  temporarily  toler- 
ated by  the  people  against  whom  they  bore  arms,  bat 
they  could  never  expect  to  be  treated  as  other  immi- 
grants were  treated.  What  more  natural  than  for 
thern  to  seek  to  make  a  home  on  British  territory, 


Reminiscent  and  Otherwise. 


135 


but  even  here  greatest  reticence  and  secrecy  was  nec- 
essary lest  British  law  take  cognizance  of  tlieir  pres- 
ence, place  tliein  under  arrest  as  deserters,  and  re- 
turn them  to  Germany  to  save  the  excliecqucr  of  the 
British  government.  An  iidded  proof  tliat  these 
settlers  were  Hessians  and  not  Dutch  Is  found  in 
their  language,  which  was  German  and  not  Dutch; 
that  Piechert,  Lucke,  Diehl,  Boemehauer,  Beinhardt, 
Schmidt,  Sachs,  Kraiitz,  Rheuiter,  Schultheiss,  and 
many  others  well  known  throughout  the  Townships, 
now  changed  and  modernized,  are  not  Dutch  but  Ger- 
man names.  Whatever  their  origin  or  history,  no 
blame  attache?  to  them.  They  were  manly  and  never 
set  up  the  claim  of  the  over-worked  myth  of  the  East- 
ern Townships  —  the  L^nited  Empire  Loyalists  —  nor 
did  they  ever  grovel  to  the  level  of  mendicants  and 
implore  government  aid,  public  recognition,  or  other 
emolument.  They  brouglit  with  them  robust  manhood, 
agricultural  skill,  industry  and  persistence.  As  a  con- 
tributing class  to  the  growth  and  welfare  of  the  coun- 
try, and  especially  to  the  amenities  of  the  communities 
in  which  they  dwelt,  they  took  deservedly  high  rank 
that  richly  entitles  them  to  a  meed  of  recognition  and 
praise. 

In  early  times  large  accessions  were  made  to  the 
numbers  of  colonists  by  immigrants  from  Ireland  and 
Scotland,  tlie  opr-  manifestntion  of  whose  love  and 
loyalty  to  the  traditions  of  their  respective  countries 
and  t'.e  every  day  life  of  the  people  seemed  like  a  rare 
exotic  in  the  wilderness.  They  well  and  manfully  as- 
serted themselves  in  subduing  the  wilderness  and 
making  the  country  habitable  and  attractive,  but  the 
Family  Compact,  so-called,  held  their  repulsive  and 
unjust  sway  in  Quebec,  and  as  their  sons  could  hope 


ih  rf 


136 


Gathebed   Waiflets. 


for  no  recognition,  advancement  or  honor  in  the  land 

of  their  birth,  becanse 

"  The  torch  that  would  light  them  through  dignity's 

way 
Must  be  caught  from  the  pile  where  their  country  ex- 
pires," 
they  buried  the  ashes  of  the  pioneers  in  the  land  that 
they  subdued  by  their  toils  and  hardships  and  then 
betook  themselves  to  new  homes  where  equal  oppor- 
tunities are  given  to  all.  Where  formerly  Irish  and 
Scotch  settlements  were  frequently  encountered  few 
who  bear  Irish  and  Scotch  names  will  now  be  found. 
The  colonist  from  England  was  seldom  found  en- 
gaged in  reclaiming  farms  from  the  forest.  He  brought 
with  him  the  national  traits  of  arrogance  and  domina- 
tion. He  was  a  government  favorite  and  it  was  his 
birthright  to  fill  official  station  and  should  none  exist 
that  measured  up  to  his  standard  one  must  be  sup- 
plied, even  though  it  be  an  unnecessary  sinecure.  He 
was  not  slow  to  claim  government  favoritism  and 
government  bounty — but  the  subjugation  of  the  frown- 
ing forests  and  the  promotion  of  agricultural  interests 
in  early  times  owe  no  appreciable  debt  to  the  English 
colonist. 

The  Habitants,  whose  ancestors  had  settled  along 
the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence  more  than  two  hundred 
years  previously,  still  clung  to  the  home  of  their  child- 
hood and  were  less  in  evidence  in  the  townships  fifty 
years  ago  than  they  are  to-day.  It  is  true  many  of  them 
found  temporary  employment  in  the  lumbering  opera- 
tions and  about  the  saw  mills  of  the  settlers  of  that 
time ;  and  their  long  processions  to  the  land  of  Uncle 
Sam  in  their  two- wheeled  carts  "  to  mek  it  de  hay  on 


Reminiscent  and  Otherwise.  187 

de  Stait,  me!"  in  the  summer  time,  are  well  remem- 
bered, but  their  abiding  place— their  Lone— was  in 
the  "French  Country"  away  off  towards  la  belle  Ri- 
viere. 

These  different  elements  from  widely  different  coun- 
tries and  conditions,  met  upon  a  neutral  ground  for 
a  common  purpose;  and  while  cherishing  the  mem- 
ories of  the  land  from  which  they  sprung,  they 
sank  all  mooted  questions  of  religion,  nationality  and 
politics  in  the  greater  one  of  mutual  toleration,  mutual 
inter-dependence  and  mutual  helpfulness. 

Recalling  this  serves  to  awaken  old  associations  and 
old  memories,  and  when  we  take  a  retrospective  glance 
we  see  in  the  past  only  that  which  is  useful,  good  and 
ennobling,  if  circumscribed  and  humble. 

A   RETROSPECT. 

Changed  conditions  may  open  up  new  opportuni- 
ties, new  ambitions,  new  responsibilities  but  the  mem- 
ories that  cluster  around  the  old  homestead  and  the 
home  life  of  onr  youth  are  the  most  sacred,  the  most 
tender,  tlie  most  distinct,  the  most  pleasurable  and  en- 
during of  all.  How  satisfying  it  is  and  how  pardon- 
able the  pride  to  which  they  give  birth,  to  recall  after 
the  lapse  of  fifty  years  these  laudable  traits  in  the 
early  settlers,  and  it  is  with  a  sense  of  thankfulness 
we  embrace  this  opportunity  to  bear  testimony  to 
their  truthfulness. 

We  turn  our  gn-ie  backward  a  half  century  but  we 
see  none  who  were  then  active  on  life's  stage  and 
whom  we  weU  knew  ;  we  journey  for  days  along  the 
highways  but  we  see  no  familiar  face;  we  call  at  their 
old  homes  and  only  the  stranger  greets  us.    One  after 


188 


Gathkbkd  WxlFLBTa 


another  have  the  pioneers  passed  away  until  all,  all  are 
Rone. 

We  inquire  about  them  and  the  niche  they  filled 
only  to  be  told  for  the  most  part  that  no  one  now 
knows  anything  about  them ;  we  ask  for  a  copy  of  the 
local  history  that  its  pages  may  refresh  our  fading 
recollections  and  give  some  answer  to  our  question- 
ings and  learn — oh!  unwelcome  revelation! — that 
through  culpable  indifference  and  neglect  no  record 
of  the  early  settlers  who  founded  and  aided  in  devel- 
oping the  Eastern  Townsliips,  of  their  enterprise  and 
daring,  of  their  privations  and  hardships,  of  their  toils 
and  triumphs,  has  ever  been  made  to  embalm  their 
good  deeds  in  the  pages  of  history  by  "the  art  pre- 
servative of  arts  " — to  be  at  once  their  monument  and 
the  pride  and  stimulus  of  their  descendants  and  suc- 
cessors. 

With  uncomplimentary  thoughts  uppermost  in  our 
mind  and  with  a  saddened  heart  we  turn  from  the  un- 
pleasant contemplation  and  strive  to  recall  and  record 
some  of  the  conditions  under  which  they  lived,  and 
what  would  be  some  of  the  most  striking  changes  that 
would  confront  them  did  they  now  re-visit  the  familiar 
scenes  of  their  active  life. 

Doubtless  what  would  impress  them  most  forcibly 
would  be  the  disappearance  of  the  vast  forests  which 
then  abounded  and  stretched  away  in  every  direction, 
and  the  extensive  fertile  farms  and  tidy  homes  of  com- 
fort which  have  taken  their  place. 

HARDSHIPS   AND   TEIAL8   OF   THE   PI0NEEE8. 

Villages  and  habitations  that  are  now  in  an  open 
country  and  discernible  as  far  as  the  range  of  vision 


Reminiscent  and  Otherwise.  139 

can  reach  were  then  mostly  but  a  few  little  log  cabins 
hidden  by  a  dense  forest  gro«-th  of  mighty  pines,  hem- 
locks, cedars,  tamarack,  beech,  birch,  maple,  and  other 
irdigenous  trees.  The  few  acres,  comparatively,  of  ara- 
ble land  reclaimed  from  the  wilderness  in  their  day 
conld  only  by  courtesy  or  a  stretch  of  language  be  dig- 
nified by  the  name  of  farms,  while  tonlay  they  would 
see  teeming  acres  limited  only  by  the  extent  of  coun- 
try, and  the  extensive  and  forbidding  forests  of  their 
time  entirely  blotted  out. 

The  hum  of  agricultural  machinery  and  the  thunder 
ing  locomotive,  neither  of  which  they  ever  heard  or 
saw,  mi!?ht  cause  tliem  to  doubt  if  they  were  in  the 
world  they  left  or  whether  they  were  not  sojourning  in 
a  more  favored  sphere ;— confronted  with  modem  con- 
ditions of  living  and  travel,  with  the  marveUous 
mechanism  now  common  in  every  walk  of  life,  and 
the  varied  applications  of  steam  and  electricity,  they 
might  be  expected  to  be  certain  of  it. 

But  to  return  to  the  routine  of  every  day  life. 
The  new-comer,  often  accompanied  by  his  trusting, 
hopeful,  helpful  -vife,  and  a  few  small  cliildren,  with 
little  or  no  money,  and  all  their  worldly  belongings  in 
a  crude  bo.x,  carpet  bag,  or  tied  in  a  bundle— strangers 
among  strangers— alighted  from  a  rude  stage  at  the 
post  office,  or  possibly  having  made  the  journey  on 
foot  from  the  place  of  disembarkation,  carrying  all 
their  belongings,  and  sought  for  a  shelter  for  the 
night. 

They  were  usually  given  a  warm  welcome  at  the  first 
log  cabin  large  enough  to  accommodate  them,  as  its 
occupants,  prompted  by  a  fellow  feeling,  recaU  a  simi- 
lar favor  extended  to  themselves  not  long  since,  and 


i; 


140 


Gatiikrkd  Waiflkts. 


the  best  the  cabin  affords  is  cheerfully  shared  with  the 
latest  accession  to  the  neighborhood.  Land  is  taken 
up  and  the  toil  begins  of  carving  out  a  home  from 
untoward  surroundings.  An  axe  is  bought  at  the  only 
store  for  miles  around,  and  which  also  serves  as  a  post 
oftiee ; — trees  are  felled  and  soon  a  log  cabin  takes 
their  place  above  a  hole  dug  in  the  ground  which  be- 
comes an  apology  for  a  cellar. 

The  spaces  between  tiie  logs  are  filled  with  mud  or 
moss  or  a  combination  of  both,  logs  are  hewn  for  a 
floor  an<l  cedar  is  rifted  for  a  covering  for  the  roof 

An  apology  for  a  door  is  provided,  wiiich  swings 
upon  M'ooden  hinges,  and  its  hard  wood  latch  is  opera- 
ted iV.im  without  by  a  latcli-string  which  is  withdrawn 
at  night  so  the  door  cannot  be  openetl  from  the  out- 
side. A  crude  fireplace  is  fashioned  of  rough  stones 
in  one  end  of  the  cabin,  the  family  moves  in,  and  life 
is  begun  in  the  new  home. 


COOKINO    UTEN-ilLS. 

In  many  cases,  and  sometimes  for  years,  a  single 
iron  kettle  having  three  legs,  an  iron  cover,  and  a 
large  bail,  known  as  a  baking  kettle,  and  in  many 
places  as  a  Dutch  oven,  was  the  only  cooking  utensil 
on  the  premises,  and  many  a  savory  whobsome  meal 
was  cooked  therein  while  buried  in  and  covered  with 
burning  coals.  A  little  later  came  the  old-fashioned 
glazed  earthen  teapot,  which  became  its  associate  and 
companion  upon  the  heartli.  Corn  bread  and  oaten 
cakes  were  baked  before  a  "  bread  board,"  set  up  edge- 
ways and  a  little  aslant  before  the  open  fire. 

Baking  pans,  kettles  and  other  hollow  iron  ware 
were  soon  after  introduced  and  came  into  general  use. 


Remikisckxt  and  Otiikrwimk.  141 

Ovens  made  of  brick,  the  manufacture  of  which  wa« 
undertaken  by  «ome  of  the  more  enterprising,  added 
greatly  to  the  culinary  department  of  the  household 
but  many  an  elegant  roast  of  beef  and  mutton  and 
weU  browned  turkey  were  stiU  cooked  for  company  or 
the  Chnstmas  dinner  upon  the  spit  in  the  tin  baker 
or  tin  kitchen,  before  the  open  Are  in  the  Hreplace. 

The  holi.iay  season,  extending  from  Christmas  until 
after  New  Year's,  was  largely  given  up  to  visiting  rel- 
atives, family  reunions  and  innocent  mirth.  Holly 
and  mistletoe  may  not  have  gnir.ed  the  walls  of  the 
humble  habitations,  but  loyal  friendships,  hearty  wel- 
comes,  good  cheer,  and  generous  hospitality  were  no 
indifferent  substitutes. 

As  families  were  usually  large  and  cabins  small, 
economy  of  space  was  very  essential.  Under  many  of 
the  be<ls  in  the  tlwelliugs,  and  all  beds  were  then  of  the 
old  high  post  style  iield  together  by  a  bed  cord  made 
tense  by  a  lever  or  bed  wrencli,  were  trundle  beds 
which  were  drawn  out  upon  the  floor  for  use  at  night. 
These  were  often  supplemented  by  bunks  which  were 
folded  up  and  used  as  seats  during  the  day  and  even- 
ing. 

BIKFICILTIKS   OF   TRAVEr,. 

There  was  then  in  all  Canada  not  a  single  mile  of 
railway  and  turni)ike  roa.ls  were  well  nigh  impassable 
especially  during  the  spring  and  fall  when  nearly  alJ 
travel  was  practically  at  a  standstiU,  and  when  distant 
journeys  would  be  more  readily  undertaken  on  horse- 
back or  on  foot  than  with  a  team.  At  such  times 
when  It  became  necessary  to  go  to  the  grist  mill  the 
grain  was  bound  upon  the  horse's  back  and  the  owner 
trudged  alongside  leading  the  animal. 


R-! 


I^;i 


142 


Gatuerkd  Waiflets. 


In  many  CRtet  the  roads  wera  but  the  sinuong  wayii 
improviged  through  the  foregtg  by  lumbermen  for 
hauling  out  timber,  logg,  and  wood,  and  which,  by 
continued  uge  and  improvement,  have  become  the  pub- 
lic highways  of  the  country. 

The  territory  Vjeing  substantially  a  foregt  it  was  per- 
fectly natural  tiiat  lumbering  operations,  peeling  hem- 
lock bark,  shaving  shingles,  and  the  like,  would  be  the 
principal  occupation  of  the  people  for  many  years  suc- 
ceeding the  earliest  settlements.  While  large  (juanti- 
ties  of  lumber  were  cut  and  exported  to  the  United 
States  the  pri;'e  paid  therefor  was  so  low  that  only  the 
most  valuable  and  easily  obtained  was  thus  utilized. 

rhere  being  tiien  no  railways  for  transportation  or 
rivers  available  for  this  purpose  the  expense  for  haul- 
ing logs  from  a  distance  to  the  saw  mills,  and  the 
lumber  over  very  poor  roads  to  Lake  Champlain,  was 
so  great,  that  little  or  no  margin  of  profit  was  left  to 
stimulate  the  industry  or  reward  the  efforts  of  the 
more  enterprising  who  engageil  in  such  business.  Nev- 
ertheless, it  was  a  sight  tifty  years  ago  to  see  tlie  pro- 
cession of  teams — twenty,  thirty,  forty  in  line — aU 
heavily  laden  with  lumber  going  to  Missisquoi  bay, 
and  later  to  the  mouth  of  Pike  river,  from  the  differ 
ent  saw  mills  to  the  north  and  east,  wiience  the  lum- 
ber was  shipped  to  Whitehall,  Troy,  Albany  and  other 
places  to  the  south  which  were  accessible  by  way  of 
the  Hudson  river. 

Receiving  such  poor  returns  for  their  labor  seemed 
to  beget  a  mania  for  the  destruction  of  the  forests  so 
that  the  land  might  be  reduced  to  a  state  of  cultiva- 
tion and  a  better  compensation  be  obtained  for  their 
labor. 


Urminiscknt  and  Otherwisk.  143 

Few  men  can  appreciBte,  and  fewer  still  will  ever 
know,  with  what  toil  and  hardships  this  task  was  accom- 
plished. 

DKKTROYINO    VAU'ABLK   TIMBKR    LANDS. 

DHring  the  (Iryest  portion  of  the  year  fires  were 
started  in  the  choppings  of  the  previous  winter  and 
they  were  encouraged  to  extend  into  and  devour  the 
uncut  forest  and  consume  wliat  tonlay  would  he  most 
valuable  timber.  These  e.vtensive  fires  ra^ed  in  all 
directions,  filling  the  air  with  clouds  of  smoke  by  duy 
and  their  seething  flames  lighting  up  and  making 
lurid,  fantastic,  and  thrilling  pictures  by  night  as  they 
seized  upon  and  devoured  their  prey  as  a  roaring  wild 
beast  might  seize  upon  and  devour  an  innocent  victim. 

Stretching  awpy  from  west  to  east  along  the  nortli- 
em  boundaries  of  New  York,  Vermont  and  Xew 
Hampshire  to  the  State  of  Maine  for  a  southern 
boundary,  an<l  with  the  St.  Lawrence  river  for  a 
northern  boundary,  nothing  now  remains  in  the  in- 
cluded territory  of  the  e.vtensive  forests  of  valuable 
timber  that  then  covered  the  land  as  with  a  protecting 
mantle. 

It  is  now  a  bootless  task  to  ask  if  a  clearer  insight 
and  forecast  would  not  have  prompted  the  exercise  of 
a  wiser  discretion  and  spared  at  least  a  portion  of  the 
wealth  of  the  forests  so  wantonly  destroyed  to  meet 
the  wants  of  a  later  time. 

In  many  places  the  hard  wood  ashes  were  gathere<I 
up  by  the  more  entei-prising,  the  lye  extracted  by 
very  crude  appliances  and  boiled  into  potash  in  great 
iron  kettles,  which  was  then  hauled  by  slow  moving 
t«am8  to  the  distant  market  of  Montreal  and  an  hon- 
est dollar  well  earned  thereby.     In  other  places  and 


m 
jji- 

'J' 


144 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


especially  along  the  highway  leading  from  the  village 
of  Bedford  to  PhiUipsburg  on  Missisquoi  Bay,  many 
lime  kilns  were  built  and  large  quantities  of  lime  was 
bumed  and  sold  to  the  settlers  in  other  parts  where 
no  limestone  was  available.  With  limestone  and 
wood  then  in  abundance  in  this  locality  and  competi- 
tion sharp,  many  a  bushel  of  lime  was  sold  for  five 
cents ;  and  not  infrequently  dinner  for  purchaser  and 
team  was  included. 

AVith  the  scarcity  of  wood  which  now  exists  and 
better  transportation  facilities,  so  that  supply  may 
be  more  easily  and  cheaply  obtained  elsewhere,  but  a 
faint  remnant  of  the  industry  now  remains. 

CLEARING    LAND. 

Old  and  young  of  the  households  found  abundant 
work,  when  other  labors  permitted,  in  clearing  up  the 
land,  piling  up  and  burning  the  logs  and  odds  and 
ends  which  escaped  the  first  burning,  re-piling  and 
firing  the  embers,  chinking  up  and  around  and  urging 
on  the  devouring  element  to  consume  the  huge  pine 
and  other  stumps.  With  the  aid  of  the  light  of  the 
fires  this  work  was  frequently  extended  long  into  the 
night 

From  such  work  all  returned  so  covered  with  smoke 
and  grime  as  to  more  nearly  resemble  ebony  Negroes 
from  the  banks  of  the  river  Congo  than  any  of  the 
Caucasian  race. 

A  coarse  but  substantial  and  satisfying  meal  was 
then  disposed  of,  then  to  humble  and  restful  beds  of 
straw  or  corn  husks,  and  up  and  at  it  again  with  the 
earliest  dawn  for  days  and  weeks  together.  Few  there 
are  who  now  can  realize,  and  fewer  wiU  ever  know  by 


Reminiscent  and  Otherwise.  145 

ej^erienee,  the  extent  and  severity  of  the  exhansting 
labor,  approximating  that  usually  performed  by  the 
ox  and  the  horse,  which  was  necessary,  and  which  wag 
uncomplainingly  and  ungrudgingly  given  to  subdue 
the  forests,  to  gather  the  great  boulders  and  stones 
wto  walls  and  huge  piles,  and  to  give  to  the  Eastern 
Townships  the  fertile  and  attractive  farms  of  to-day. 

Crops  of  potatoes,  com,  wheat,  rye,  oats,  buckwheat 
beans  and  the  like  were  worked  in  at  first  between  the 
stumps  and  stones  and  cultivated  and  harvested  by 
hand.  The  spade,  hoe  and  grob-hoe  did  duty  for  the 
plow  and  harrow  of  later  years,  and  the  scythe,  sickle, 
and  hand  rake  for  the  mowing  machines  and  horse 
rakes  of  tonlay. 

After  a  lapse  of  a  few  years,  when  the  stumps  be- 
came  somewhat  decayed,  and  so  more  easy  of  removal 
a  bee  would  be  made,  when,  to  tlieir  credit  be  it 
recorded,  aU  the  neighbors  for  miles  around  would 
cheerfully  gather  with  their  o.x-teams  and  again  prove 
the  truth  of  the  old  saying  "many  hands  make  light 
work,  and  thus  accomplish  what  would  otherwise  be 
weU  nigh  impossible,  and  add  several  acres  of  weU 
cleared  land  to  the  farm. 

earliest  farming  implements. 
Mowing  machines,  harvesters,  and  horse  rakes  had 
not  been  invented;  but  had  they  been  in  existence 
they  wonhl  have  been  as  useless  as  a  smoke  stack  upon 
a  wheelbarrow,  as  the  land  was  too  rough  to  permit  of 
their  use,  and  the  people  for  tlie  most  part  were  too 
poor  to  buy  them  All  hay  and  grain  was  cut  with  the 
scythe  and  sickle-a  large  part  of  the  grain  and  the 
timothy  grass  for  hayseed  with  the  latter  implement 


146 


Gathered  Waiixets. 


No  threshing  machines  were  then  in  existence  and 
many  weary  days  were  spent  wielding  the  hand  flail  to 
thresh  the  grain  and  hay  seed. 

Fanning  mills  of  a  crude  type  were  coming  into  use, 
but  only  those  in  better  circumstances  could  afford  to 
buy  them.  The  old  hand  fan,  which  many  of  the 
present  day  never  saw,  was  then  in  common  use — 
although  even  then  some  made  use  of  the  still  more 
ancient  method  of  a  gale  of  wind  for  winnowing  ♦heir 
grain. 

Any  farmer  possessed  of  a  modicum  of  mechanical 
genius  could  make  a  hand  fan,  but  when  this  wag  be- 
yond his  ability  he  could  get  one  made  for  him  by  a 
more  ingenious  neighbor  in  exchange  for  labor,  some 
product  of  the  farm,  or  other  compensation. 

It  was  made  of  thin  hard  wood,  semi-circular  in 
shape  and  from  five  to  six  feet  across  the  straight  part, 
or  what  would  be  the  diameter  of  the  circle.  Around 
the  periphery  was  a  rim  some  ten  or  twelve  inches  high 
provided  with  two  handles  much  like  handles  on  a 
basket,  and  which  were  located  at  convenient  distances 
apart.  Into  this  was  put  as  much  of  the  threshed 
grain  and  chaff  as  could  be  conveniently  handled  and 
an  up  and  down  and  partial  rotary  motion  was  im- 
parted to  it  by  the  operator,  when  the  chaff  being 
lighter  would  work  up  to  the  top  and  outer  edge  and 
be  blown  off  from  the  fan,  leaving  the  grain  behind. 

VEGETABLE   GROWING   AND   SUGAR  MAKING. 

Surplus  cabbages,  potatoes  and  other  vegetables 
that  could  not  be  contained  in  the  hole  under  the 
cabin,  and  which  did  duty  as  a  cellar,  were  buried  in 
pits  dug  in  the  ground  and  covered  with  earth  to  a 


Reminiscent  and  Otherwise.  147 

sufficient  depth  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  the  frost, 
where  they  usually  remained  until  the  followins 
spring. 

In  the  early  spring  time  sap  troughs  were  made  of 
bass-wood,  poplar,  ash,  and  similar  wood  and  scorched 
over  an  open  brush  Are  to  prevent  checking  later  by 
the  sun  when  put  into  use.  The  maple  trees  were 
tapped  with  a  gouge  chisel,  the  spouts  were  rifted 
from  cedar  with  the  same  gouge  so  as  to  fit,  and  a 
great  score  or  notch  cut  ir*o  the  tree  with  an  axe  above 
the  spout  to  increase  the  iiow  of  sap. 

In  the  most  level  and  open  sugar  woods  the  sap  was 
g'athered  m  barrels  and  puncheons  securely  fastened  to 
sleds  drawn  by  oxen,  but  more  frequently  it  was  car- 
ned  m  buckets  and  pails  suspended  from  the  shoulders 
by  neck-yokes.  The  potash  kettles  were  scoured  out 
and  again  pressed  into  service  to  boil  the  sap. 

These  were  usuaUy  suspended  over  the  butt  end  of  a 
sapling  tree  and  upheld  and  supported  by  a  convenient 
stump  or  boulder.  This  gave  good  control  of  the  boil- 
ing sap  and  syrup,  as  they  could  easily  be  removed 
from  over  the  roaring  lire  when  necessary  by  swinging 
around  the  upper  and  counterbalancing  end  of  the  tree 
top. 

Many  tons  of  sugar  were  so  made  and  families  of 
several  generations  supplied  therewith  before  the  re- 
fined white  sugar  of  the  cane  was  ever  seen  in  these 
parts;  and  while  it  usuaUy  was  very  dark  from  the 
charred  sap  troughs  and  from  the  smoke,  smut,  and 
cinders  from  the  open  tire,  it  was  not  less  appreciated 
and  useful. 

Many  can  now  recall  the  pleasant  scenes  and  jolly 
companions  of  the  sugaring-off  parties  in  the  long  ago. 


1' 


#: 


148 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


h 


HOUSEHOLD    RBQDISITES, 

Soap  as  now  in  the  market  was  then  practically  un- 
known. The  prudent,  thrifty  and  practical  housewife 
and  helpmate  saved  all  the  bones  of  the  meat  used 
throughout  the  year,  and  all  the  waste  fat  and  (grease 
from  the  table,  for  soap  grease  with  which  to  make  the 
year's  supply  of  soap  and  so  save  much  that  is  now 
wasted,  and  thus  add  to  their  stock  of  this  world's 
goods. 

It  is  now  distinctly  remembered  that  the  moon  exer- 
cised great  iniluenee  over  soap-making,  but  whether  it 
must  be  made  in  the  full  or  new  of  the  moon  is  now 
forgotten. 

Washing  was  often  done  in  the  neighboring  brook 
or  spring,  or  beside  a  well  in  a  trough  dug  out  from  a 
large  tree  when  these  were  not  available.  As  wash 
boards  had  not  been  invented,  the  hands  and  knuckles 
did  all  the  work ; — and  peeled  saplings  supported  by 
convenient  trees  or  crotched  sticks  did  duty  for  clothes 
lines. 

Brooms  made  of  broom  corn  as  no.,  in  use  were 
then  unknown.  The  tidy  housewife  kept  her  house 
clean  with  brooms  of  home  manufacture,  which  were 
made  from  balsam,  cedar,  or  hemlock  boughs,  firmly 
tiad  upon  a  sapling  for  a  handle,  while  the  man  of  the 
house,  or  some  of  his  grown  boys  who  were  blessed 
with  a  little  mechanical  skill,  would  make  a  more  pre- 
tentious one  during  the  winter  evenings  by  shredding 
white  or  yellow  birch  from  a  sapling  of  suit  ble  size. 

The  blazing  fire  in  the  fireplace  gave  the  needed 
heat  for  comfort,  and  many  times  it  was  the  only 
available  light  for  the  household.  As  matches  had 
not    come   into   general    use,    it   was   important   to 


REmwiaoENT  AND  Otherwise.  149 

keep  a  continuous  fire,  and  so  be  spared  the  slow  and 
^ing  process  of  producing  it  with  the  flint  and  steeL 
lo  this  end  hemlock  and  pine  knots  were  gathered  in 
the  woods  and  pastures  and  one  or  more  of  them  buried 
in  the  coals  in  the  flre-pkce  every  night  and  covered 
with  a  mound  of  ashes,  where  they  would  usuaUy  be 
found  as  a  huge  coal  of  fire  in  the  morning.  Should 
the  work  of  covering  up  the  knots  and  coals  be  indif- 
ferently  done  so  as  to  permit  the  accession  of  air  aU 
would  be  consumed  and  only  ashes  i^main. 

Should  the  nearest  neighbor  be  not  too  far  away 
some  member  of  the  family  would  be  dispatche.1  with 
the  fire  shovel  to  secure  some  live  coals  with  which  to 
start  a  new  fire ;  but  a  watchful  prudence  rendered  this 
an  irfretjuent  occurrence. 

TaUow  dips  and  later  molded  tallow  candles  were 
used  for  artificial  light.  Later  the  petticoat  lamp,  a 
smaU  lamp  made  of  tin  in  which  was  burned  sperm  oil 
was  introduced  and  wa.  in  use  many  years  before  the 
more  cleanly  and  brilliant  camphene,  a  preparation  of 
^cohol  and  spirits  of  turpentine,  was  introduced,  and 
which  was  later  displaced  by  the  kerosene  oil  of  the 
present  time. 

Lanterns  were  something  of  a  rarity,  and  only  the 
oldest  settlers  could  afford  to  own  one.  They  were 
made  of  tin  punched  full  of  various  si;,ed  and  shaped 
holes  forming  simple  designs,  cylindrical  in  form,  in 
which  a  can<lle  was  used  for  light-and  they  served  at 
best  only  to  render  the  darkness  more  visible.  Next 
came  s.juare  lanterns  made  from  smaU  panes  of  glass 
then  circular  ones  of  blown  glass  as  now  in  use. 

WIFE   AND    MOTHER. 

Of  the  wife  and  mother  it  could  be  truthfully  said, 


150 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


a8  it  is  said  in  the  scriptures :  "She  hath  done  what 
she  could  "—and  she  did  it  in  full  scriptural  measure— 
"pressed  down  and  overflowing." 

She  not  only  reared  a  large  family,  which  she  always 
kept  neat,  comfortable  and  tidy,  and  attended  to  all 
other  household  duties,  but  also  often  lent  a  helping 
hand  in  haying  and  harvesting  time  and  other  work 
upon  the  farm.  Fifty  years  ago  it  was  no  infrequent 
sight  to  see  the  mother  of  the  household  in  the  iield 
with  her  sickle  reaping,  with  her  fork  and  rake  in  the 
hay  field,  or  husking  corn  in  the  autumn  time. 

The  work  of  the  household  at  that  time  was  far 
more  onerous  than  now,  and  it  was  performed  without 
many  of  the  conveniences  now  availabb  to  expedite 
the  work  and  lighten  the  toil 

For  days  and  weeks  together  in  the  busy  summer 
time  she  and  the  daughters  of  the  household  milked  the 
cows  of  a  very  considerable  dairy,  cared  for  the  milk, 
churned  the  cream  in  the  old  fashioned,  upright  dasher 
chum,  made  and  packed  the  butter  in  addition  to  the 
care  of  the  home— the  bmad  making,  house  cleaning, 
cooking,  washing,  and  mending  for  her  large  family. 

Hand  looms  for  weaving  were  then  found  in  many 
homes  and  these  added  another  burden  to  her  many 

cares. 

No  settler  was  content  without  the  golden-footed 
sheep  upon  his  farm  to  supply  him  with  cash  from  the 
sale  of  the  lambs,  wholesome  meat  for  his  table,  and 
wool  for  clothing  for  the  family,  blankets,  stockings, 
mittens  and  the  like.  Much  of  the  wool  was  carded 
by  hand,  spun  upon  the  old-fashioned  spinning  wheel, 
wove  upon  the  hand  loom,  and  made  up  into  various 
garments  and  articles  by  hand. 


Rkmwiscent  and  Otherwise.  151 

Ample  scope  might  here  be  given  to  a  vivid  imagin- 
ation and  a  facile  pen  without  risk  of  exaggerating 
the  difficulties  of  the  task  and  the  labor  required  to 
perform  it 

It  was  no  uncommon  thing  at  autumn  time  for  trav. 
elling  tailors,  tailoresses,  and  shoe-makers  to  come 
into  the  homes  of  those  who  could  afford  to  employ 
them  and  remain  weeks  at  a  time  helping  to  make  up 
the  outfit  of  garments  and  boots  for  winter  use. 

LAW    AND   MEDICINE. 

Professional  mf  n  were  then  but  few,  and  largely  a 
superfluity.  As  might  be  expected,  those  who  located 
in  such  new  and  sparsely  settled  communities  were 
generally  of  the  most  ordinary  attainments  and  quali- 
fications. 

For  the  most  part  litigants  stated  their  own  case 
and  pleaded  the  cause  before  the  local  magistrates  in 
the  most  informal  manner.  Dignity  and  decorum  were 
then  not  in  evidence,  and  not  infrequently  the  most 
ludicrous  scenes  were  enacted.  These  magistrates 
often  received  their  appointments  for  effective  politi- 
cal work  in  behalf  of  some  budding  son,  or  ambitious 
individual  with  plenty  of  money,  who  usually  came 
from  Montreal,  and  who  desired  to  add  the  prefix 
Hon.  or  the  suffix  M.  P.  P.  to  his  family  name  by  cap- 
turing a  rural  constituency  of  much  praised  "loyal 
yeomanry"  whom  perhaps  he  had  never  previously 
seen  or  heard  of,  to  represent  in  the  provincial  parlia- 
ment, and  not  because  of  any  knowledge  of  the  law  or 
fitness  for  the  office,  and  so  results  were  what  might 
be  expected  under  such  circumstances. 

Domestic  medicine  was  then  much  more  practiced 
than  it  is  now.    During  the  summer  season  nearly 


i 


152 


Gathered  Waifletb. 


every  family  gathered  a  supply  of  roots,  barks  and 
herbs  for  use  throughout  the  year — gold  thread,  Can- 
ada snake  rort,  slippery  elm  bark,  prickly  ash  bark, 
chamomile,  sage,  thoroughwort,  wormwood,  catnip, 
tansy,  and  the  like. 

'  n  parturient  eases  there  was  in  nearly  every  neigh- 
borhood a  mid-wife,  who  officiated  very  successfully  and 
very  often  gratuitously.  Should  she  be  given  a  doUar 
for  her  services  she  would  think  herself  very  gener- 
ously rewarded  and  even  handsomely  compensated. 

Here  and  there,  scattered  many  miles  apart,  were  to 
be  found  pretentious  disciples  of  P^sculapius  whose 
superficial  knowledge  of  surgery  and  the  healing  art 
was  wrapped  up  in  an  ample  covering  of  lofty  pretence 
and  an  assumed  life-and-death  air  of  wisdom.  With 
these  unenviable  qualities  there  not  infre(iuently  co- 
existed a  very  rough  and  ungentlemanly  exterior,  and 
sometimes  habits  of  intemperance,  profanity,  indif- 
ference and  other  lowering  and  unbecoming  qualities. 

This  may  be  the  more  readily  impressed  upon  the 
reader  and  appreciated  by  a  recital  of  a  couple  among 
many  cases  well  remembered  of  a  physician  not  long 
since  deceased,  who  practiced  medicine  more  than  fifty 
years  over  an  extent  of  country  approximating  four 
hundred  square  miles,  and  for  many,  very  many  years 
without  a  coadjutor  or  rival 

VE    OLD    TIME    DOCTORS. 

Being  sent  for  on  a  time  to  reduce  a  fracture  of  the 
femur  in  a  man  beyond  mid-life,  who  resided  some  six 
or  eight  miles  away,  and  who  fell  upon  the  ice  while 
fishing  for  pickerel,  it  was  found  that  the  doctor  had 
gone  a  dozen  miles  away  in  an  opposite  direction  and 
that  he  would  not  return  until  the  next  day.     Some 


REMlmgOEMT   AND   OtHIRWISR.  188 

twenty.fonr  or  more  honn  after  the  accident  occurred 
and  tumefaction  had  set  in,  cauiing  the  man  to  groan  in 
agony  with  pain,  the  doctor  arrived  upon  the  scene. 
His  first  inquiry  was  for  some  brandy.  Being  told 
that  there  was  none  in  the  house  he  ordered  a  messen. 
ger  dispatched  to  the  tavern  in  the  villcge  for  a  supply 
When  this  was  procured  he  called  for  some  morning's 
milk,  from  which  the  cream  was  not  to  be  removed, 
and  half  filling  a  tumbler  with  this  he  filled  the  re- 
mainder  with  brandy  and  drank  aU  with  evident  gusto. 

He  then  went  to  the  bedside  and  stripped  off  the 
covering  so  roughly  as  to  cause  the  patient  to  howl 
with  pain,  and  cry  out  for  mercy— 

I' Oh!  doctor,  doctor!  for  God's  sake  be  easy!" 

Shut  up  your  mouth  you  d d  old  fool!    It  will 

learn  you  to  stand  up  next  time,"  came  the  brutal 
rejoinder. 

He  was  called  to  another  house  where  the  fair  sex 
predominated,  and  among  whom  were  some  practical 
jokers.  His  patient  was  a  spinster  of  doubtful  age 
whom  dame  rumor  said  had  at  an  earlier  time  been 
wounded  by  an  arrow  from  Cupid's  quiver.  Be  this 
as  it  may  she  was  nervous,  whimsical,  hypochondria- 
cal,  and  the  butt  and  jest  of  her  more  youthful  sisters 
who  probably  knew  or  at  least  suspected  the  cause  of 
ner  indisposition. 

The  doctor  being  an  old  bachelor,  put  on  great  dig- 
nity  and  assumed  the  role  of  a  cavalier. 

"  Ah,  yes,  you  are  a  very  sick  girl.  It  is  very  for- 
tunate that  you  called  me  in  so  soon.  Disease  has 
already  maae  a  serious  inroad  upon  your  system, 
which  would  soon  terminate  in  a  decline  and  a  gene- 
ral breaking  down,  but  I  shall  leave  you  some  powe^ 


'•f. 


154 


GaTHIBED   WAirLBTS. 


fnl  medicine  which  your  sisters  will  give  yon,  and 
which  with  good  care  and  careful  nursing  will  bring 
you  back  to  goo<l  health,"  etc.,  eta,  and  with  an  asBU^ 
ance  that  he  would  call  again  in  a  week  or  ten  day*  he 
took  his  departure. 

The  medicine  left  was  in  the  form  of  pills  and  they 
so  nearly  resembled  the  seeds  growing  upon  a  bass- 
wood  tree  beside  the  road  that  the  joUy  sisters  decided 
it  would  be  a  good  joke  on  physician  and  patient  to 
substitute  them  for  the  doctor's  medicine,  which  they 
accordingly  did,  and  which  they  administered  regu- 
larly at  the  prescribed  times. 

In  due  season  the  doctor  called  again  and  was  so 
surprised  and  delighted  with  his  patient's  great  im- 
provement that  he  threw  bouquets  at  himself  without 
stint  or  limit  and  boastingly  told  of  his  great  medical 
attainments  and  wonderful  skill  in  the  treatment  of 
disease! 

FROM   LABOR   TO  REFRESHMENT. 

Nor  was  it  all  toil  and  gloom  with  the  early  settlers. 
Amidst  the  cares  and  burdens  of  their  daily  life  aspira- 
tions for  the  higher  and  more  refined  were  not  wholly 
wanting.  In  addition  to  the  dahlias  and  rose-bushes 
seen  in  nearly  every  restricted  front  yard  and  garden, 
hollyhocks  and  morning  glories  that  covered  the  win- 
dows and  sometimes  whole  sides  and  roofs  of  cabins, 
vr»re  assiduously  cultivated  and  highly  appreciated. 

They  had  their  leisure  hours  and  they  made  the 
most  of  them.  The  older  people  of  today  can  well 
recall  the  jolly  husking  bees  of  autumn  time  and  the 
reward  bestowed  upon  the  lucky  ones  who  found  the 
red  ears  of  com.  Apple  paring  bees  extended  through- 
out the  different  neighborhoods  and  frequently  termi- 


RxXinigOENT   A!»D   OTHKRWIgR.  186 

nated  with  "aU  talnte  yonr  partners,"  "first  two  forward 
and  back,"  "balance  four,"  and  other  limilar  move- 
ments of  Terpsichore  to  the  strains  of  Money  Mnsk, 
Fisher's  Hornpipe,  Virginia  Reel,  and  other  well 
known  tones  extorted  from  a  violin  not  made  by  a 
Stradivarius  nor  fingered  by  a  Paganinni,  bnt  which 
answered  every  purpose. 

The  older  people  whiled  sway  many  a  pleasant  even- 
ing when  they  called  upon  each  other  by  telling  the 
tales  of  other  days,  thoir  own  adventures,  the  folklore 
of  the  country  from  whence  they  came,  in  "old  sledge," 
"forty  five,"  and  other  games  of  cards.  Those  within 
the  years  of  childhood  and  early  youth  were  interested 
listeners  and  maintained  a  respectful  silence,  longing 
for  the  day  to  come  when  they  would  be  grown  up  and 
able  to  take  part  in  and  share  the  evening's  pleasures. 

FUNERAL   CUSTOMS. 

When  the  Death  angel  made  his  visit  and  bore 
hence  some  loved  one,  the  entire  neighborhood  was 
wrapped  in  gloom.  Relatives,  friends  and  neighbors 
for  miles  around  came  with  words  of  sympathy  as  sin- 
cere as  touching,  and  they  were  ever  ready  to  render 
every  aid  within  their  power  to  the  afllicted  ones. 

There  weru  then  no  professional  paid  undertakers 
to  mechanicaUy  and  perfunctorily  perform  the  last  sad 
act  of  burial 

When  a  death  occurred  the  village  carpenter  came 
and  measured  the  remains  and  made  a  coffin  of  pine 
-oards,  wide  at  the  shoulders  and  tapering  to  the  ends. 
This  was  painted  black  and  lined  with  white  cloth. 
There  were  no  silver  plated,  oxidized,  or  other  showy 
handles  or  tinsel  adornments. 

The  remains  were  escorted  to  the  place  of  sepulture 


186 


OikTunBD  WAirLira. 


hj  •  Urge  eonooane  of  people  who  teemed  tonobed 
by  the  bereavement  and  ladneM  of  the  occasioD.  The 
fnneral  of  many  a  diitinipiiihed  person  has  taken  place 
with  less  sincere  sorrow  and  appropriate  ceremony. 
Roman  Catholics  were  always  buried  in  the  grave-yard 
attached  to  the  parish  chnrcb,  with  chnrch  services, 
and  others  in  a  less  ceremonious  manner,  in  the  many 
little  burial  places  in  the  different  neighborhoods 
throughout  the  country. 

The  grave  is  closed,  the  last  sad  act  performed,  and 
all  return  to  their  homes ; — night  comes,  the  dew  falls, 
and  the  moon  shines  out  resplendent  over  the  quiet 
earth.  The  sun  rises  on  the  morrow  and  the  wonted 
duties  begin  over  again  as  if  nothing  outside  the  daily 
routine  had  happened. 

l'envoie. 

Changes  have  come,  the  old  has  passed  away.  The 
new  has  been  ushered  in.  Nevertheless  it  is  a  discon- 
solate thing  to  forever  part  company  with  the  old  set- 
tlers— men  and  women  of  honorable  lives  and  sterling 
worth — with  old  conditions  and  old  customs  which 
were  the  every-day  life  of  the  people  of  a  few  genera- 
tions ago.  Green  be  their  memory  and  peace  to  their 
ashes. 


"  111  fares  the  land,  to  hastening  ills  a  prey. 
Where  wealth  accumulates  and  men  decay: 
Princes  and  lonls  may  flourish  or  may  fade, 
A  breath  can  make  them  as  a  breath  has  made. 
But  a  bold  peasantry,  their  country's  pride. 
When  once  destroyed  can  never  be  supplied." 
—The  Newi,  St.  John's,  P.  Q.,  Nov.  9, 1900. 


1  I 

i   i' 


VERY  REV.  JOHN  J.  POWER,  D.  D,  V.  G. 


WuiTiii  OH   Riqum  or  thi  Boaio  of  T»abi.  Wonoimi 

"AM.,  roK  In  OrriciAi.  Phiiiioatioh,  thi  Wo»ch. 

iM  Maoauiii,  Arm,  Itm. 

Bunder  therefore  to  all  their  due.;  tribute,  to  whom  tribute 
i»  due;  custom,  to  whom  cu.tom;  tear,  to  whom  (ear; 
honor,  to  whom  honor.— Romant,  iiii:7. 

The  juit  ihall  be  in  everlasting  remembrance.— Pealms,  cxi:7. 


THERE  was  little  that  was  optimigtic  or  reasgnp. 
ing  in  the  report  of  the  Committee  of  the  Gen- 
eral Court  which  was  sent  out  in  1667  "to  take 
an  exact  view,  as  soon  as  they  conveniently  can,  to 
make  a  true  report  whether  the  place  be  capable  to 
make  a  viUage,  and  what  number  of  families  they  con- 
ceive  may  be  there  accommodated." 

This  committee  performed  the  duty  for  which  it  was 
appointed,  and  ascertained  that  a  very  considerable 
portion  of  the  land  within  the  limits  of  the  proposed 
new  town  had  already  been  granted  to  individuals,  and 

"unto  the  church  of  Maiden  one  thousand  acres; 

but  all  this  notwithstanding,  we  conceive  there  may  be 
enough  meadow  for  a  small  plantation,  or  town,  of 
about  thirty  families;  and  if  these  farms  be  annexed 
to  it,  it  may  supply  about  sixty  families." 

Taking  a  retrospective  glance  from  the  threshold  of 
the  twentieth  century,  it  is  hard  to  realize  the  trans- 


I 


m 


-PI 


158 


Gathebed  Waiflbts. 


formation  wronght  in  the  brief  space  of  «  little  more 
than  two  hundred  years.  Its  recital  wonld  seem  more 
like  a  fairy  tale  than  reality.  Here  the  wily  Indian 
then  pursued  the  timid  deer ;  here  his  paddle  mffled 
the  waters  of  the  placid  lake ;  here  the  beaver  bnilt 
his  dam  unmolested ;  here  the  white  man  was  a  stran- 
ger; here  the  woods  had  never  echoed  the  settler's 
axe;  here  nature  had  never  received  the  impress  of 
civilization. 

And  yet  in  the  brief  space  of  years  that  might  be 
measured  by  the  lives  of  three  individuals,  behold  the 
change ! 

Forbidding  forests  have  given  place  to  homes  of 
comfort ;  streams  once  the  home  of  beaver  and  otter, 
now  turn  the  wheels  of  industry  and  furnish  employ- 
ment to  multitudes  of  people;  hill-tops  where  once 
burned  the  signal  fires  of  the  savage,  now  are  crowned 
with  churches,  schools,  and  eleemosynary  institutions, 
— and  the  old  is  blotted  out  forever. 

The  territory  which  it  was  thought  "may  supply 
about  sixty  families"  is  the  beautiful  city  of  Worces- 
ter of  to-day  which  now  sustains  a  population  of  one 
hundred  and  twenty  thousand  people,  and  which  ii- 
rapidly  growing. 

In  a  great  nation  of  great  cities  Worcester  takes 
prominent  place  and  ranks  twenty-ninth  in  population. 
Our  city  is  well  known  throughout  the  United  States 
and  far  beyond  for  its  educational  institutions,  diversi- 
fied industries,  the  skill  and  enterprise  of  its  mechan- 
ics, and  its  rapid  growth.  But  in  this  grasping, 
utilitarian  age,  when  so  many  enter  the  race  for  wealth 
and  think  that  money  is  king,  it  is  not  wise  to  forget, 
overlook,  or  obscure  the  fact  that  material  success 


Very  Rev.  John  J.  Power,  D.D.,  V.G.     159 

alone  is  not  a  measure  of  civilization  or  of  a  nation's 
trae  greatness. 

Wood  and  stnbble,  bricks  and  mortar,  rifled  cannon 
and  men-of-war,  huge  industrial  combinations  and 
enterprises,  and  vast  clearing-house  balances  of  them- 
selves never  made  a  contented  people  nor  a  nation 
great.  The  civilization,  stability,  and  progress  of  a 
country  rest  upon  the  moral  fibre  of  the  people. 
Honor  and  praise  alike  belong  to  all  who  have  aided 
in  the  building  and  maintenance  of  the  substructure  of 
equal  and  exact  justice  which  is  embodied  in  our 
national  constitution,  and  which  is  highest  civilization 
and  the  foundation  which  buttresses  and  supports  ma- 
terial greatness. 

Worcester  is  great  because  her  people  have  been 
and  are  great.  She  has  contributed,  with  honor  to 
herself  and  credit  to  our  country,  her  full  quota  of  dis- 
tinguished men  to  every  walk  of  life. 

Taking  high  rank  with  the  greatest  and  best  of  her 
citizens  is  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  Very  Rev.  John 
J.  Power,  D.  D.,  vicar-general  of  the  Diocese  of  Spring- 
field, who  died  January  27,  1902.  For  nearly  fifty 
years  he  was  intensely  interested  in  everything  per- 
taining to  the  welfare  and  advancement  of  the  city  to 
which  he  was  an  important  contributing  factor,  and 
few  men  who  have  ever  lived  within  its  limits  were 
better  known  or  loved,  or  whose  death  comes  home  to 
so  many  with  all  the  force  of  personal  bereavement 
and  loss.  He  was  born  of  highly  respectable  and  hon- 
orable parents  in  the  shadow  of  Bunker  Hill  in  the  city 
of  Charlestown,  August  23,  1828,  where  his  early  boy- 
hood was  passed.  He  attended  the  public  schools  and 
had  as  school-mates  boys  who  later,  like  himself,  at- 


h 


160 


GaTHBBKD   WAIFLETa 


tained  to  marked  distinction — among  their  number 
being  Starr  King,  the  eloquent  preacher  and  lecturer, 
and  for  whom  two  mountain  peaks  have  been  named ; 
Professor  Lewis  B.  Monroe,  the  famed  elocutionist,  and 
author  of  Monroe's  series  of  readers ;  and  others. 

Being  bright  and  studious,  he  was  not  only  able  to 
take  foremost  rank  in  his  class,  but  he  also  found  time 
to  begin  the  private  study  of  the  classics,  when  fifteen 
years  old,  with  his  pastor,  Rev.  George  Goodwin.  He 
was  admitted  to  Holy  Cross  College,  July  7,  1847, 
where  he  iras  graduated  July  24,  1851. 

Believing  himself  called  to  the  priesthood,  he  made 
the  first  year  of  his  course  in  theology  in  the  Grand 
Seminary  in  Montreal.  Never  enjoying  robust  health, 
his  frail  constitution  was  too  severely  taxed  by  the  rig- 
ors of  a  Canadian  winter  to  justify  his  return.  He  was 
then  sent  to  the  seminary  at  Aix,  in  the  south  of 
France,  on  the  shore  of  the  Mediterranean,  where  he 
completed  his  course  and  where  he  was  ordained 
priest  May  17,  1856. 

When  he  returned  to  his  home  he  was  so  frail  that 
it  was  thought  he  could  not  long  survive,  and  to 
spare  him  from  the  trying  east  winds  of  his  native  city, 
he  was  sent  to  Worcester. 

The  note  sent  with  him  by  the  Bishop  to  Father 
Boyce  reflected  the  general  belief,  "Take  good  care  of 
this  young  man ;  he  will  not  trouble  you  more  than  a 
few  months."  Being  of  a  highly  nervo-vital  tempera- 
ment, his  system  responded  to  the  balmy  weather  of 
early  summer  in  the  interior  of  the  state,  and  he 
quickly  manifested  that  singular  recuperative  energy 
for  which  he  ever  after  was  so  noted. 

There  was  then  but  one  Catholic  church  in  the  city — 


Vkry  Rbv.  John  J.  Powbh,  D.D.,  V.G.     161 

St  JohD's,  on  Temple  street  In  1852  a  plot  of  land 
was  bought  on  Shrewsbury  street  as  a  site  for  a  new 
churoh.  Work  was  begun  upon  the  building  in  1854, 
which  was  placed  under  the  patronage  of  Saint  Anne; 
but  owing  to  the  small  number  of  Catholics,  their  pov. 
erty,  dull  times,  bad  management,  or  aU  these,  it  had 
passed  into  the  hands  of  the  mortgagee  before  comple- 
tion. 

Three  months  after  the  coming  of  the  young  priest, 
August  6,  1866,  he  was  appointed  pastor  of  the  new 
parish,  and  then  and  there  he  began,  amid  the  most 
humble  and  unpromising  surroundings,  his  pastoral 
labors  in  which  he  was  so  pre-eminently  successful  and 
which  gave  him  commanding  eminence. 

As  the  Catholic  church  is  managed  in  this  country, 
the  burden  of  building  churches,  convents,  schools,  and 
the  like,  is  added  to  the  pastoral  duties  of  the  priest, 
and  thus  it  is  that  Father  Power  has  performed  the 
double  duty  of  adding  much  to  the  material  growth 
and  beauty  of  the  city  while  zealously  safeguarding 
the  spiritual  interests  and  upbuilding  the  morals  of 
the  people  over  whom  he  was  placed.  Without  a  dol- 
lar in  the  treasury,  he  re-purchased  the  church  prop- 
erty. Bishop  Fitzpatrick  of  Boston  having  advanced 
the  necessary  money  to  meet  the  first  payment  Ever 
optimistic,  te  had  an  abiding  faith  in  the  growth  and 
development  oi  the  city  and  in  his  ultimate  success. 
He  gathered  his  flock  about  him,  and  soon  his  winning 
personality,  ascetic  life,  earnestness,  self-denial,  lucid 
instructions,  fatherly  exhortations,  and  devoted  minis- 
trations, added  to  its  numbers,  and  extended  his  rap- 
idly growing  fame  and  influence  for  good  throughout 
the  city  and  surrounding  country. 


a 


162 


GaTHKBEO   WAnXBTS. 


This  made  him  and  his  work  a  shining  mark  for 
that  periodical  ebullition  of  ignorance,  bigotry  and 
malice  which  has  always  been  in  such  painful  evidence 
in  this  country  from  its  earliest  settlement,  and  which 
stands  out  au  a  foul  blot  thereon,  and  which  at  that 
time  was  organized  under  the  name  of  the  American 
party,  popularly  called  "Know  Nothings."  He  was  un- 
moved by  their  insults  and  threats  of  personal  vio- 
lence, but,  being  credibly  informed  that  they  intended 
to  bum  the  church,  as  they  had  burned  Catholic 
churches  and  other  buildings  devoted  to  religious 
uses  elsew  here,  and  that  his  parishioners  were  plan- 
ning to  defend  it,  he  feared  bloodshed  and  conse- 
quent dishonor  to  the  city.  With  his  accustomed 
coolness  and  foresight,  he  forbade  his  people  to  assem- 
ble for  this  purpose,  and  locking  the  doors  of  the 
church  he  placed  the  keys  in  the  hands  of  the  mayor 
of  the  city,  and  told  him  that  he  must  protect  it,  and 
that  if  it  should  be  burned  he  would  hold  the  city  re- 
sponsible therefor.  This  had  the  desired  effect,  St 
Anne's  escaped  the  ruffian's  torch,  probable  bloodshed 
was  averted,  and  the  good  name  and  honor  of  the  city 
were  maintained. 

The  financial  crash  and  panic  of  18.57  added  another 
obstacle  of  huge  proportions  to  surmount  and  over- 
come. Nothing  daunted,  he  re-doubled  his  efforts, 
never  resting,  never  hasting,  overcoming  difficulty 
after  difficulty  by  his  ability,  tact,  undaunted  zeal,  and 
tireless  energy ;  while  his  self-abnegation,  devotion  to 
duty,  and  edifying  life  made  the  community  better 
and  filled  his  church  to  overflowing — many  non-Catho- 
lics in  the  higher  walks  of  life  being  of  the  number. 

Untoward  sights,  sounds  and  actions  could  not  ex- 


Vehy  Rev.  John  J.  Powkb,  D.  D.,  V.  G.     163 

ist  in  a  place  blessed  by  his  presence  and  ministra- 
tions, and  a  more  healthy  and  elevated  tone  was  soon 
apparent  in  that  portion  of  the  city  wherein  he  re- 
sided. 

Frail  as  he  was  and  burdened  with  the  work  of 
organizing  his  parish,  attending  to  the  spiritual 
wants  of  his  parishioners,  and  paying  off  the  church 
debt,  he  found  time  to  devote  to  missions  in  the 
towns  of  Grafton  and  Millbury,  where  his  memory  ig 
held  in  loving  and  grateful  remembrance.  His  rapidly 
growing  congregation  soon  taxed  the  church  beyond 
its  limits  and  made  it  necessary  to  provide  more  room. 
He  then  had  the  church  raised  and  a  commodious 
basement  built  thereunder,  extending  the  seating 
capacity  of  the  church  to  the  full  size  of  the  build- 
ing; built  a  vestibule  and  entrance  in  front,  replaced 
the  windows  with  stained  glass,  purchased  a  pipe 
organ,  cushioned  the  pews,  renovated  and  frescoed  the 
interior— virtually  making  a  new  church  out  of  the 
old  and  doubling  its  capacity. 

Soon  after  he  purchased  land  adjoining  the  church 
on  the  easterly  side  and  erected  a  convent  thereon. 
He  secured  a  band  of  Sisters  of  Mercy,  who  t.  k  up 
their  residence  in  the  convent  October  24,  186^,  this 
being  the  first  establishment  of  the  religious  orders  of 
women  in  this  city. 

There  was  then  no  hospital  in  the  city,  and  its 
necessity  was  painfnUy  brought  to  his  attention  when 
servant  girls  who  had  no  homes  or  relatives  in  the 
city  were  overtaken  by  sickness.  He  supplied  the 
need  by  establishing  a  small  hospital  in  connection 
with  the  convent,  which  he  placed  in  charge  of  the 
sisters.     This,  as  in  other  things  throughout  his  life, 


11 


n 


164 


OaTRERED   WAirLBTS. 


he  undertook  only  after  csrefnl  conBidention  and 
thoroughly  maturing  plans  for  its  maintenance.  As 
he  was  always  a  firm  believer  in  what  was  worth  hav- 
ing was  worth  paying  for,  he  adopted  the  co-operative 
plan — each  one  wishing  to  avail  herself  of  its  advan- 
tages during  sickness  secured  the  same  by  the  pay- 
ment of  a  nominal  sum  annually.  For  several  years 
the  work  was  carried  on  successfully,  but  a  public 
hospital  being  afterward  established  rendered  its 
existence  no  longer  necessary,  and  it  was  aban- 
doned. 

As  the  years  of  his  pastoral  life  lengthened,  he  saw 
some  of  the  fruits  of  his  labors  in  the  increased  and 
increasing  number  of  parishioners,  which  overtaxed 
existing  church  accommodations  and  made  imperative 
the  work  of  providing  more  room. 

Ever  striving  to  extend  the  kingdom  of  the  Master, 
and  to  give  the  people  over  whom  he  was  placed  every 
reasonable  convenience  for  their  devotion  and  worship, 
he  undertook  the  laborious  task  of  building  a  new 
church.  He  called  a  public  meeting  in  Washburn 
Hall  in  the  month  of  January,  1867,  to  consider  the 
feasibility  and  propriety  of  undertaking  the  work. 
His  audience  made  answer  by  subscribing  $7,100  on 
the  spot  for  this  purpose. 

He  was  never  content  with  mediocrity,  and,  deter- 
mined in  this  as  in  other  things  to  have  the  best,  he 
selected  as  a  site  for  the  new  church  a  location  on 
"Nobility  Hill,"  so  called,  the  then  most  prominent 
and  popular  residential  portion  of  the  city.  This 
aroused  a  whirlwind  of  opposition  and  protest  on  the 
part  of  the  residents  of  the  neighborhood,  and  it  was 
even  against  the  combined  wisdom  of  many  of  his 


Vkry  Bev.  John  J.  Powub,  D.  D.,  V.G.     165 

friends,  whose  judgment  was  adverse,  but  which  time 
has  proved  to  have  been  wisely  chosen. 

Without  a  dollar  in  hand,  when  the  work  was  pro- 
jected he  undertook  the  task  of  building  the  most  ex- 
tensive and  expensive  church  edifice  then  in  the  city. 

On  a  day  appointed  in  the  spring  of  1868  a  large 
number  of  Catholics  assembled  upon  the  sit*  selected 
and  joyfully  participated  in  the  first  day's  work  of  ex- 
cavating for  the  foundation. 

The  comer-stone  was  'aid  with  fitting  ceremony,  in 
the  presence  of  a  vast  concourse  of  clergy  and  laity, 
July  4,  1869,  and  St.  Paul's  will  long  remain  a  fitting 
monument  to  his  foresight,  energy  and  executive  abil- 
ity, and  which  by  a  plan  and  system  of  his  own  form- 
ulating, he  lived  to  see  free  from  debt  and  a  handsome 
surplus  in  the  treasury. 

In  addition  to  large  sums  of  money  paid  while  the 
edifice  was  in  process  of  construction,  there  remained 
a  debt  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  thousand  dollars 
thereon  when  it  was  completed.  Without  any  endow- 
ment, without  any  benefactions,  and  but  little  wealth 
among  his  parishioners,  he  addressed  himself  to  the 
task  of  not  only  carrying  on  the  spiritual  work  of  the 
church  successfully,  paying  the  heavy  interest  charges 
and  other  expenses,  but  also  to  paying  oflF  the  entire 
debt. 

This  plan  and  system,  which  have  accomplished  so 
much  in  a  sliort  space  of  time  without  working 
hardship  to  anyone,  and  for  which  only  failure  was 
predicted  by  many,  deserve  to  be  recorded  here  to  his 
credit 

Every  member  of  his  parish  eighteen  years  old  and 
upwards,  earning  wages  or  in  the  receipt  of  an  income. 


166 


Oathskco  Waiflbts. 


was  taxed  one  hnndred  dollars  a§  his  or  her  minimnm 
share  of  the  chnrch  debt  or  contribution  to  the  build- 
ing fnnd.  This  amonnt  conld  be  paid  as  a  single  pay- 
ment, or  by  installments  when  so  desired,  as  small  as 
one  dollar  each  month — the  "three  cents  a  day"  of 
which  he  often  spoke  that  accomplished  so  mach.  He 
divided  his  parish  into  districts,  and  volunteer  collec- 
tors canvassed  each  district  and  handed  in  the  amonnt 
collected  at  vespers  the  first  Sunday  of  every  month. 
The  names  of  all  who  completed  the  payment  of  the 
assessment  were  enrolled  as  Chnrch  Builders  or  Ben- 
efactors, and  this,  among  other  things,  stimulated  a 
healthy  spirit  of  interest  and  earnestness  in  church 
work  and  produced  a  reliable  income  which  rapidly 
diminished  the  debt  upon  the  church. 

Hither  he  also  brought  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  and  in 
addition  to  the  duties  of  their  order  of  self-abnegation 
and  kindly  ministrations  to  the  afflicted  and  unfortu- 
nate throughout  the  city,  he  placed  them  in  charge  of  an 
orphanage  which  he  established  in  a  commodious 
brick  building,  which  he  built  with  his  own  money 
for  this  purpose,  adjoining  the  convent  and  contiguous 
to  the  parochial  residence. 

Since  its  doors  were  jpened  more  than  one  thousand 
children  have  been  cared  for  within  its  walls,  every  one 
of  whom  was  an  object  of  his  kindly  interest,  and 
many  of  whom  were  largely  dependent  upon  his  pater- 
nal bounty. 

Such  in  general  terms  are  some  of  the  outward  and 
more  apparent  works  planned  and  brought  to  happy 
realization  by  him  for  whom  the  city  mourns. 

But  a  more  valuable  and  enduring  monument  to  his 
pre-eminent  goodness  and  greatness  is  the  many  lives 


Very  Ubv.  Johw  J.  Powbk,  D.D.,  V.G.     167 

made  better  and  brighter  by  big  presence  and  minis- 
trations, the  prejudices  and  misconceptions  that  be 
overturned  and  explained  away,  and  the  lofty  ideals 
that  he  inculcated  and  so  happily  exemplified  by  ex- 
ample throughout  all  the  years  of  his  active  and  use- 
ful life. 

He  was  blessed  with  brilliant  talents,  which  he  ren- 
dered more  brilliant  by  constant  study,  meditation, 
and  use — and  to  these  he  united  a  keen  and  practical 
judgment  These,  conjoined  with  light  and  strength 
from  on  high,  he  brought  to  bear  upon  his  every-day 
life,  and  to  what  they  led  he  was  ever  devotedly  loyaL 

The  one  transcendant  quality  for  which  he  was 
noted,  and  which  was  peculiarly  fitting  and  appropri- 
ate, was  the  measure  in  which  he  fulfilled  the  com- 
mand of  the  Master,  "Go  teach." 

His  ascetic,  self-denying,  holy  life  during  all  of  the 
pain-beset  years  of  his  long  pastorate  was  a  profoundly 
eloquent  sermon,  rich  in  the  upbuilding  of  character, 
strengthening  the  weak,  and  making  the  good  bet- 
ter— the  after-glow  of  which  will  be  an  abiding  inspi- 
ration, strength  and  comfort  to  all  who  knew  him  and 
came  within  his  saintly  influence. 

Intolerant  ever  of  avoidable  ignorance  and  ever 
striving  to  stimulate  intellectual  activity — to  act  only 
after  enlightened  reason  had  been  appealed  to  and  ap- 
proved— his  greatest  efforts  were  made  to  build  char- 
acter upon  foundations  acceptable  to  God  rather  than 
for  the  purpose  of  winning  the  plaudits  and  admira- 
tion of  men. 

He  lived  in  an  atmosphere  above  and  beyond  the 
humdrum  of  every-day  life,  and  he  continually  strove 
for  something  higher — he  had  but  scant  courtesy  for 


■m 


ill 


168 


OxTHCBao  'WAiri.lTS. 


those  content  to  remain  at  low  levels.  While  child- 
like in  his  simplicity,  a  characteristic  of  the  tmly 
great,  he  gave  added  honor  and  dignity  to  the  priest 
and  citizen.  He  was  too  great  to  lower  himself  to  the 
ways  of  the  politician,  the  tricks  of  the  stage,  or  to 
bnm  red  Are  to  captnre  the  applause  of  the  unthinking 
multitude. 

He  read  not,  he  studied  not,  he  appealed  not  for 
mere  intellection — but  that  it  might  give  color  and 
form  and  life  and  inspiration  that  would  stimulate  to 
greater  endeavors  and  lead  up  even  to  heroic  achieve- 
ment all  who  were  given  in  charge  to  him — so  that  the 
service  of  the  creature  might  be  more  worthy  the  Cre- 
ator. 

"God  gave  the  intellect,  and  it  is  man's  duty  to  cul- 
tivate it,"  "Majorities  have  not  the  prerogative  of 
infallibility,"  and,  "If  in  the  right  stand  alone,  though 
all  the  world  oppose,"  were  not  infrequently  uttered 
by  him,  and  those  who  knew  him  know  how  well  they 
typified  the  man  and  how  well  he  exemplified  them  in 
his  every-day  life. 

Justice,  stem,  rigid  and  exacting,  was  a  very  promi- 
nent trait  in  his  character,  and  no  bandage  was  neces- 
sary upon  his  eyes  to  proclaim  that  he  held  the  scales 
true  and  impartial 

His  clear  and  positive  convictions  and  sterling  man- 
hood could  not  tolerate  temporizing,  vacillation,  time 
serving,  insincerity — yet  with  such  thoughtful  consid- 
eration, gentleness  and  kindness  of  heart  which  he  had 
in  over-abundance  for  all,  he  never  transgressed  the 
bounds  of  charity,  nor  found  bitterness  in  his  heart  for 
those  who  opposed,  offended,  or  were  not  of  his  faith. 

He  ever  waged  ceaseless  warfare  against  intemper- 


Vebv  Rkv.  Johs  J.  PowiR,  D.  D.,  V.  O.     189 

ance,  and  especiaUy  the  cnrse  of  dnmkennei*.  For 
the  tempter  he  had  less  charity  than  for  the  tempted, 
and  his  scathing  dennnciationa  of  the  saloon  bore 
wholesome  fruit,  and  will  long  be  remembered.  He 
had  an  eye  to  see  the  misery  and  ruin  wrought  by  the 
liquor  traffic  and  abuse  of  alcoholic  stimulants,  and  a 
heart  to  sympathize  with  and  pity  the  victims.  He 
wt  -  not  slow  to  bare  his  arm  and  raise  his  voice  to 
denounce  the  one  and  to  reclaim  and  save  the  other. 
While  not  proclaiming  his  work  from  the  housetops 
nor  amid  the  din  and  noise  of  public  gatherings,  his 
work  was  none  the  less  telling  and  effective. 

He  was  a  master  in  the  forum  of  controversial  dis- 
cussion. In  a  moment  he  would  analyze  the  argument 
of  an  opponent  and  resolve  it  into  its  elements,  and  in- 
stantly synthesize  all  that  was  cogent  therein,  only  to 
administer  a  stunning  blow  from  his  well-stored  arse- 
nal. While  never  believing  in  controversy  or  con- 
tention, he  ever  Lad  a  logical  rejoinder  or  e.xplanation 
ready  for  the  shafts  of  an  opponent ;  but  he  preferred 
and  so  inculcated  the  seeking  after  truth  and  light  by 
investigation  and  prayer  to  Him  who  has  promised  an 
attentive  ear  to  all  who  seek  after  truth  with  a  meek 
and  humble  heart. 

He  was  punctual,  precise  and  exactini;  in  all  things, 
even  in  what  others  would  consider  ,  ifles,  often  say- 
ing that  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world,  and  even  the 
world  itself,  was  made  up  of  small  things,  and  that  the 
most  powerful  mind  and  the  most  sterling;  character 
are  but  the  aggregation  of  small  things.  He  loved 
to  dwell  upon  and  accentuate  the  importance  of  doing 
well  the  so-called  small  things  of  life,  which  he  often 
said  were  the  only  stepping-stones  to  the  greater  and 


4   tSj- 


'  '1 

?[.'  ' 

if; 

u^  i 

1 

li 

170 


GaTHMO    WAirUTTfl. 


higher,  and  that  when  he  waa  gone,  if  he  waa  remem- 
bered for  nothing  elae,  he  desired  to  be  remembered 
for  this  trait  in  his  character. 

Cold,  reeerved  and  aaatere  as  he  seemed  to  some, 
those  who  knew  him  as  he  was  knew  that  these  were 
but  the  outward  covering  of  a  kind  and  loving  heart ; 
and  while  flatly  refusing  to  be  imposed  upon  by  the 
designing  and  unworthy,  he  always  had  an  open  hand 
and  generous  sympathy  for  the  unfortunate  and  de- 
serving— God's  poor,  as  he  called  them. 

In  his  sermons  he  never  followed  a  beaten  path  nor 
the  stereotyped  method  of  introduction,  development, 
climax  and  conclusion ;  but  no  man  could  choose  more 
fitting  words  to  express  his  thoughts  nor  lodge  them 
with  more  directness  and  force  into  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  his  hearers — going  direct  to  the  end  aimed 
at  without  formality  or  verbiage — and  making  last- 
ing impressions  alike  upon  old  and  young,  cultivated 
and  unlettered. 

He  was  appointed  vica^general  January  29,  1874, 
and  on  June  2.5,  1874,  his  alma  mater  made  him  doc- 
tor of  divinity. 

He  yielded  to  no  man  in  pride  of  birth  or  love  of 
country,  and  in  the  dark  days  of  the  War  of  the  Re- 
beUion  his  rousing  words  of  patriotism  gave  new 
courage  and  sent  many  a  stalwart  soldier  to  the  front 
to  recruit  the  depleted  ranks  of  the  army.  He  gave 
the  city  valuable  service  for  many  years  as  a  member 
of  the  School  Board,  and  he  was  one  of  the  committee 
which  visited  other  cities  to  examine  high  schools  be- 
fore deciding  upon  the  plan  of  our  present  Classical 
High  School 

It  is  not  doing  injustice  to  say  that  no  one  ever 


Very  Bev.  John  J.  Power,  D.D.,  V.Q.         171 

took  a  more  kindly  intcrent  in  the  bcIiooIh  of  the  city, 
or  labored  more  zcalouHly  or  with  greater  uucceBs  to 
remove  objectionable  features  and  to  promote  their 
efficiency.  IIi'  (fuve  great  attention  to  viHiting  the 
BobooU,  and  kept  In  close  touch  with  methods  pur- 
iued  and  pro^jr.  s  iiiude,  and  he  was  always  warmly 
welcomed  by  t  ■••iciic.  s  ium  ;  iii,iis  alike,  with  whom  he 
was  alwayc  :i  r.i..i,]t. 

He  al  >-  'i-i  <"l  ij  tiMM  i'  vc  ri  as  a  director  of  the 
Public  Lilinn,  v.h"ii'  hi.  Ii  i  th  of  scholarship  and 
knowled,:,".  nf  littu'ure  ti.»d  hovks  gave  great  value  to 
his  service^. 

He  was  madr  a  m lor  of  the  Saint  Wulstan 

Society  when  it  ■  •<■■  (iiganizcd,  and  so  remained  until 
his  death.  This  society  is  composed  of  some  of  the 
leading  educated  men  of  the  city,  and  it  was  organized 
to  take  charge  of  and  administer  the  Knowles  legacy, 
which  was  left  to  establish  an  art  museum,  and  mem- 
bership therein  is  considered  a  great  honor,  and  it  is 
highly  prized.  He  was  always  proud  of  the  city,  and 
highly  interested  in  everything  that  enhanced  its  fame 
and  prosperity.  He  left  the  impress  of  his  personality 
upon  his  day  and  generation;  and  he  will  long  be 
remembered  as  the  beloved  pastor,  the  sympathetic 
friend,  and  the  ideal  citizen. 


. 


(         i 


I 

1 3 


i! 


A  CHRISTMAS  REVERIE. 


,1[,1 


NATURE  sleeps.  The  blazing  yule  log  upon  the 
hearth  makes  cheering  contrast  with  the  wind 
of  winter  as  it  drives  the  frozen  sleet  against 
the  casement.  Oazing  upon  the  embers,  it  dawns  upon 
us  that  man  lives  but  little  in  the  present.  The  wealth 
of  by-gone  memories,  strung  as  jewels  along  life's 
pathway,  and  the  hope  of  future  achievement,  con- 
stitute a  fascinating  environment  compared  with  which 
the  present  is  but  a  barren  plain. 

A  gentle  reverie  steals  over  us,  and  half -dreaming, 
half- waking,  we  see  man'u  <'..reer  painted  in  the  fitful 
embers  before  us.  Tongues  of  flame  burst  forth  and 
vanish,  ami  anon  burst  forth  aneAv,  shoot  higher  and 
higher  —  and  then  a  darkening  shadow !  Here,  in 
miniature,  clouds  of  sunshine  as  if  happiness  never 
could  end;  there,  wielding  a  sword  of  flame  as  if  to 
overcome  the  world  —  and  then  all  is  ashes  I 

Winter's  piercing  blast  now  chants  a  dirge  as  befits 
the  dying  year,  and  says :  tlie  seasons,  too,  typify  thy 
days,  0  man.  Thy  day  of  youth  is  but  in  retrospec- 
tion. No  longer  with  thee  tarries  the  smiles,  tears 
and  blushes  of  gentle  Spring.  No  more  is  the  balmy 
air  laden  with  the  perfume  of  Mora's  breath.  No 
longer  can'st  thou,  with  the  husbandman,  cast  fertile 
seed  into  the  womb  of  the  future.  Thy  seed-time  is 
past.  The  heat  of  summer's  solstice  is  upon  thee,  and 
nature's  verdure  is  responsive.    The  lowing  kine  seek 


A  Christmas  Bevebie. 


173 


leafy  sliade  and  pools  of  cooling  water.  Tasseling 
com  and  fields  of  grain  bow  gently  in  the  breeze,  the 
lark  sings  his  love-note  in  the  meadow,  and  the  fledg- 
ling swallow  tries  his  wing.  Restless  nature  hurries 
on,  and  forth  goes  the  reaper.  The  blooming  field  of 
yesterday  is  shorn  of  its  beauty,  and  the  fragrant 
fom  yields  tribute  to  the  biting  frost.  The  feathered 
songsters  seek  a  home  in  the  "Sunny  South."  Type 
of  vigorous  manhood,  robust,  rugged  Autumn,  with 
his  wealth  of  color,  mellow  sunshine  and  crisp  frost, 
is  no  longer  his.  The  rainbow-tinted  hillside  is  now 
wrapped  in  Winter's  mantle,  the  melody  of  the  rip- 
pling brook  is  locked  in  icy  fastness,  and  Nature  sleeps. 
Bams  groan  under  their  burden,  and  the  clanking  of 
their  chains  makes  music,  as  the  kine  contentedly  chew 
their  cuds  in  the  lintels.  Tongues  of  fire  in  the  north- 
em  sky  shoot  upward  to  the  zenith,  and  the  skater's 
steel  resounds  upon  the  frozen  lake. 

Wafted  hence  on  the  wings  of  Morpheus,  the  Good 
Genius  speaks:  "Man,  0  man!  be  thy  day  of  spring 
a  memory  of  a  wise  seed-time,  thy  summer's  hour  the 
remembrance  of  fruitful  maturity,  thy  golden  autumn 
the  attainment  of  man's  best  estate;  then,  as  the  snows 
of  old  age  descend  upon  thy  head,  wilt  thou  enjoy  the 
winter  of  rest,  preparatory  to  thy  entrance  upon  per- 
petual spring." 

The  embers  have  burned  low  upon  the  hearth,  and 
a  sudden  gust  of  wind  partly  recalls  the  wandering 
mind  from  the  land  of  dreams  only  to  have  it  soon 
again  float  out  upon  and  wander  down  another  of 
Nature's  attractive  vistas  upon  the  balmy  zephyrs  of 
•pring  as  they  breathe  over  the  land,  and  bud  and 
blossom  are  responsive.    He  sees  the  humming  bird 


'Mi 


^1 


174 


QaTHBBED  WAlPLETa. 


and  butterfly  disturb  the  trellis  and  dislodge  the  dewey 
gem  from  tlie  petal  of  the  Morning  Glory,  its  mirrored 
rainbows  dashed  to  earth  and  lost  to  human  ken. 
Destroyed  it  is  not,  and  to  him  in  the  land  of  dreams 
is  it  given  to  see  it  joined  to  its  fellows,  where  it  leaves 
its  birth-place  on  the  summit,  in  laughing  ripples  and 
winding  rivulet,  as  it  glistens  and  sings  ever  onward, 
onward,  until  lost  in  the  great  ocean  beyond.  He  sees 
obstacles  and  rebuffs  encountered  only  to  be  over- 
come, and  growing  broader,  deeper  and  more  sparkling 
as  it  journeys  on,  it  hashes  back  the  rays  of  the 
morning  sun  and  attracts  the  school-boy,  who  tarries 
by  its  side  to  gather  glistening  pebbles.  Bobolink  and 
daffodil  taste  its  sweets,  and  fragrant  fern  and  pungent 
mint  give  it  welcome  embrace.  The  timid  hare  in  the 
copse  shrinks  from  its  mirrored  form,  and  modest 
violets  are  hidden  by  mossy  stones,  where  the  silver 
thread  of  his  idyllic  brook  meanders  through  fertile 
field  and  luxuriant  meadow. 

The  freshness  and  loveliness  of  life  abounds,  and 
kindly  nature  brings  tribute  of  foliage,  bud  and  blos- 
som, as  if  fully  in  touch  with  the  enchantment  of  the 
scene.  The  miniature  cascades  grow  in  volume,  pools 
deepen,  and  the  current  cuts  away  the  bank  at  the 
bend.  Here  he  sees  Piscator  come  and  drop  his  tempt- 
ing lure,  and  the  voracious  trout,  impaled  upon  the 
cruel  steel,  no  longer  tarries  in  his  crystal  home. 

Without  mental  effort  he  sees  in  the  stream  an 
epitome  of  life  itself  —  beginnings  the  most  hiunble 
and  helpless,  children  multiplying  and  adding  strength 
to  the  family  name  and  household,  even  as  the  rivulets 
add  to  the  brook;  obstacles  and  hindrances  in  the  way 
to  be  overcome  and  surmounted;  life's  pathway  now 


A  Christjjah  Reverie.  175 

turbulent  and  precipitous,  and  anon  without  agitation 
or  ripple;  now  with  bud  and  blossom  to  cheer  and 
please,  and  again  encountering  the  boulders  and  thorns 
of  opposition  and  difficulty ;  now  in  sunshine  and  calm, 
and  again  with  darkening  cloud  and  forked  lightning 
as  if  to  cast  down  and  annihilate ;  now  moving  along 
in  quietness  and  alone,  as  the  dreamer  himself,  now 
prolific  and  useful,  and  now  seeming  barren  and  use- 
less ;  now  turning  the  wheels  of  industry  amid  noise, 
grime  and  turmoil  in  centers  of  population;  and  anon 
bearing  the  burdens  of  commerce  out  to  and  losing 
itself  in  the  boundless  ocean,  even  as  does  restless  and 
resistless  time  transport  the  human  family  out  upon 
the  measureless  ocean  of  eternity. 

Filled  with  this  unconscious,  yet  conscious  cerebra- 
tion, so  involved  and  intricate  is  the  weft  and  woof 
entering  into  the  fabric  of  dreams,  he  returns  without 
effort  through  space  with  the  rapidity  of  thought,  and 
finds  himself  upon  a  hiUside  near  a  solitary  spreading 
tree.  It  is  isolated  from  its  fellows,  manfuUy  breast- 
ing the  storms  that  break  over  it,  its  roots  striking 
more  deeply  and  holding  more  firmly  with  each  en- 
counter,  fulfilling  its  allotted  destiny.  He  sees  therein 
a  type  of  the  hermit  of  other  days— a  man  of  fixed 
principles  to  which  he  was  ever  devoted  and  loyal, 
who  lived  apart  from  his  fellows,  who  courted  not 
the  worids  praise  nor  feared  its  censure— and  on  he 
passes  to  a  grove  of  conifers. 

Here  he  sees  a  brotherhood  of  trees  in  close  commun- 
ion—the  antithesis  of  the  one  on  the  hillside,  each  in 
closest  relation,but  noteucroacliing  upon  the  othe:--the 
soughing  of  the  wind  in  their  branches  typifying  the 
orisons  of  their  human  companions,  their  balsamic 


d 


176 


Gathered  Waifiets. 


fragrance  penneating  all,  and  wafted  heavenward  like 
the  incense  of  good  deeds  ascending  from  the  human 
brotherhood  to  the  great  white  throne  on  high. 

Again,  he  sees  great  giant  trees  towering  above  all 
surroundings  like  the  noted  ones  of  the  world,  and 
others  obscure  and  unpretentious,  but  fruited  with 
abundance,  like  the  most  valued  and  useful  members 
of  society — the  unobtrusive  men  of  good  deeds.  There, 
to  be  shunned,  are  noxious  trees  whose  pestilential  ex- 
halations have  no  redeeming  quality— and  they  remind 
him  only  of  the  vagabond  contingent  and  enemies  of 
their  kind ;  others  stately  and  fair  to  look  upon  that 
are  rotten  within ;  trees  of  great  height  and  vast  pro- 
portions that  challenge  his  attention  and  command  the 
tribute  of  his  admiration,  that  are  snapped  asunder  by 
the  whirlwind  and  thrown  to  earth,  pulling  down  and 
crushing  everything  in  their  course  like  many  a  proud 
man  who  started  out  upon  the  journey  of  life  in  con- 
scious strength  and  buoyant  with  the  hope  of  great 
achievement — who  attained  to  high  and  envied  sta- 
tion, but  who,  in  a  moment  of  weakness,  encountered 
the  gale  of  temptation,  and  fell  with  an  appalling  crash 
that  shook  the  pillars  of  society  and  brought  disgrace 
and  ruin  in  his  path. 

Again,  he  is  surrounded  by  others  that  seem  fitting 
companions  to  the  dilettanti  whose  every  thought  is  of 
the  present,  and  who  always  promise  themselves  a 
golden  to-morrow,  but  who  lire  swept  into  oblivion  by 
the  winds  of  adversity,  leaving  behind  not  even  charred 
embers  as  a  remembrance,  as  does  the  consuming  forest 
fire. 

The  towering  oak  and  clinging  vine,  type  of  conju- 
gal love  and  highest  earthly  affection,  escape  not  his 


I  ' 


A  Chbistmas  Revebie. 


177 


attention;  nor  the  lesson  they  teach  of  bearing  one 
another's  burdens. 

Some  he  seeH  are  like  other  members  of  the  hnman 
family  who  have  a  grand  destiny,  while  others  of 
greater  intrinsic  value  live  and  die  unknown ;  some 
are  great,  in  a  worldly  sense,  by  the  noise  made  by 
the  wind,  or  rattle  of  hail  in  their  branches;  some, 
while  living,  by  their  association  with  others  of  impor- 
tance; and  others,  aks!  like  the  good  ones  of  the 
world,  are  best  known  and  appreciated  when  removed 
from  the  ranks  of  the  living  and  beyond  its  praise. 

Putting  forth  bud  and  blossom,  our  dreamer  sees 
that  they  well  typify  youth,  giving  promise  of  a  great 
future ;  clothed  with  densest  foliage  in  mid-summer, 
the  days  of  manhood  and  strength ;  in  the  sere  and 
yellow  leaf  the  autumn-time  of  life,  when  is  garnered 
the  harvest  of  years  ;  and  when  their  naked  branches 
are  assailed  by  the  merciless  winds  of  winter,  and  give 
back  but  sad,  pensive  strains  in  remonstrance,  he  sees 
a  vivid  picture  of  cheerless  and  defenseless  old  age, 
desolate  and  forlorn,  when  the  charms  of  life  are  but 
a  memory — the  friends  of  other  days  cast  down  from 
the  tree  of  life  and  gathered  into  tlie  silent  church- 
yard, even  as  are  the  leaves  by  the  \\  inds  of  winter. 

It  dawns  upon  him  as  never  before  that  tlie  world  is 
but  a  vast  school-house,  and  all  are  pupils. 

He  sees  some  who  are  born  witli  the  grin  of  Momus, 
who  can  see  only  the  ludicrous ;  some  with  a  bent  for 
the  serious,  who  never  smile ;  some  who,  surmounting 
every  obstacle,  ascend  to  the  summit  at  a  single  bound  ; 
some  who  never  weary  proclaiming  their  own  great- 
ness ;  and  others  who  never  become  more  than  drudges 
or  drones  by  the  wayside. 


178 


Gathkbed  WAiFLira 


He  oooBiden  how  mnch  he  hag  to  be  thankful  for, 
to  whom  it  is  given  to  be  any  of  these  as  occasion  de- 
mands, and  how  deserving  of  commiseration  and  sym- 
pathy is  he  who  can  appear  but  in  a  single  rola 

Oar  dreamer's  head  falls  suddenly  upon  his  shoul- 
der and  he  returns  to  consciousness  to  hear  in  an 
adjoining  church,  at  the  midnight  Mass,  the  joyful 
stHuc^^,  "Gloria  in  Excelsis  Deo."— TA*  Catholic  Read- 
ing OircU  Revitw,  December,  1894. 


THE  IIOHSK  I.V  S("IK\C'K  AXU  MTERATI'KH. 


TlIK    lloltsKS  (Jl-    TASSO. 


THE  sciciiti-t  iiriii'iii>  tliiit  the  Uuist"  uuteilates  iimii 
upon  tliis  pliinct,  uiiil  In'  truces  liiin  Ijiick  to  tlic 
distant  Pliocene  era  in  the  (Vnezoic  ajje  From 
tlie  present  uniilactyle,  the  liif?hiy  developeil  and  heau- 
til'ul  auiiiial  of  to-day  with  a  sinf,'le  toe  or  hoot',  haelt 
througli  low('r  forms  of  I'lioliyppus  of  tlie  lower  Plio- 
cene, anil  the  llesohyppus  and  the  Miohyppus,  with 
three  toes,  of  the  Jliocene  era,  to  the  Orohyppus  and 
Piohyppus,  ahout  the  size  of  a  small  clo;?,  of  a  more  re- 
mote age. 

However  intere.^tili},'  this  may  he  to  the  hiologist 
and  student,  in  this  husy  and  intensely  practical  a};e 
we  need  not  go  beyond  the  pages  of  Holy  Writ  where 
creation  is  aftirnied,  and  where  in  the  early  pages  we 
read  sucli  glowing  accounts  of  his  strength  and  lieauty, 
the  high  lights  toucheil  with  the  pen  of  poetry  and 
sentiment. 

From  the  sumiiiit  near  the  dawn  of  the  twentieth 
century,  if  we  take  a  hurried  glance  at  the  intervening 
period,  we  shall  always  find  him  very  closely  associated 
with  man  in  his  needs,  triumphs  and  pleasures,  and  his 
history  recorded  in  the  literature  and  art  of  every  age 
anil  of  every  clime. 

As  a  voice  from  bygone  ages  the  hieroglyphics  of 
ancient  Babylon,  traced  in   plastic  clay  before  being 


\k 


180 


Gatiiirei)  Waiki.kts. 


Iiurued  into  l)rickM,  tfll  the  story  of  his  presence  iiiiil 
usefulness  in  the  distant  past. 

The  papyrus  of  tlie  land  of  the  Pharaohs  records 
his  uppreeiatioii  and  jjraise,  and  their  monuments  show 
forth  ami  give  injte  testimony  to  his  beauty.  Omitted 
from  the  annals  of  Persian  history  and  romance  they 
wi)i;li'  lose  much  of  their  interest  and  charm;  and 
no-v  ere  has  he  been  more  highly  appreciated  and 
I.rii-i'd  than  upon  tlie  hills  anil  in  the  valleys  of  dis- 
ti.  i,t  Arabia. 

The  torch  of  civilization  kindled  in  the  east,  and 
burning  witli  a  fitful  and  uncertain  Hanie,  passed  on  to 
the  west  with  e\er  increasing  volume  and  brilliancy, 
the  liorse  keeping  pace  with  its  onwanl  and  upward 
progiessj  Grecian  civilization  grew  upon  the  ruins  of 
the  past,  and  the  chisel  of  Phidias  aud  the  pens  of 
Xenoplion  aud  Homer  immortalized  him  in  its  art  and 
literature;  Hannibal  was  born  and  the  streets  of 
Cartilage  Howed  with  blood;  liis  victorious  horse  was 
turned  upon  Koine  and  devastation,  ruin  and  death 
followed  in  his  path. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  the  armor  aloue  of  the 
knights  in  feudal  times  often  weighed  three  hundred 
pounds  and  over,  it  is  not  diflicult  to  believe,  without 
the  aid  of  contemporary  history,  that  great  knowledge 
and  discernment  nmst  have  been  bestowed  upon  his 
breeding  and  care  to  enable  him  to  bear  such  burden 
and  maintain  a  great  Hight  of  speed,  and  that  lie  must 
have  attained  to  great  development  in  tliose  far-off 
times. 

The  student,  accustomeil  to  look  below  tlie  surface 
of  things,  soon  discovers  that  all  that  is  great,  noble 
and  beautiful  in  the  horse  did  not  originate  in  recent 


I» 


TiiK  HoKSE  IN  Science  and  IjIteratihe. 


IWl 


times,  a*  too  iimny  are  apt  to  think,  with  the  importa- 
tion into  t',nglan(l  of  the  Uoilolphin  Aiahiun  durinK 
tlic  roign  of  Ooorgf  11.,  the  Darley  Arabian  in  the  time 
of  (^uoon  Anno,  or  i'laiu-'s  White  Turk  ilui'ing  tlie 
Commonwealth. 

The  birtii  of  rliivalrj  witnivsHed  tlie  death  of  me- 
(linivalism,  and  orKaiiized  .society  and  constitutional 
government  was  the  hgacy  it  left  to  coming  genera- 
tions. Great  were  the  enterprises  undertaken  by  the 
knights,  and  tlie  more  daring  and  dangerous,  the  niou' 
attractive  the  encounter,  the  horse  being  their  ever 
present  companion  and  servant. 

We  know  of  no  br('e<l  of  liorses  at  tlie  present  time 
able  to  carry  sucli  weight,  maintain  such  flights  of 
speed,  nor  that  are  capable  of  greater  endurance  tlian 
tliose  in  the  days  of  cliivalry;  and  we  find  the  pages 
<i(  history  and  liteniture  tilled  witli  tlie  glowing  de- 
scriptions of  such  horses  long  before  the  Plantage- 
nets  wielded  the  scepter  of  power  in  Kngland,  or  its 
people  rendered  more  brutal  and  degraded  in  later 
times  by  the  accession  to  tlie  throne  of  the  baser 
Tudors,  or  the  degradations  and  bu'clieries  during  tl'e 
Commonwealth. 

As  a  fitting  clos»-,  ami  to  tell  the  story  and  juality 
and  standing  of  the  horHe  in  the  far-otT  days  of  chiv- 
alry —  of  his  b'-eeding,  development,  achievements  and 
high  appreciation  —  I  .shall  choose  oiw  who  lived  and 
wrote  more  than  four  hundred  years  ago,  one  who 
carve*!  his  name  high  on  the  topmost  cliffs  of  fame  in 
tiie  simctuary  reserved  for  the  world's  greatest  poets, 
Torquato  lasso.  Tasso  lived  soon  after  the  last  cru- 
sade was  undertaken  to  rescue  the  Holy  Land  from  the 
infidel  and  Saracen,  and  his  inspired  pen  soars  to  the 


iH-2 


Gatiikrkii   Waiklkth. 


loftiest  lii'iKlit.t  of  i-pic  Kniiult-ur  wlii-ii  ilcpictiii};  tlie 
iifliii'Vt'iiicutN  of  till'  knifflits  iiiutiiitcd  upon  tlii'ir  flury 

t'llurglTN. 

Tliu  iii-iiiy  of  till'  rtrst  cruaudi'  miijitjcreil  soiiif  tl,  reo 
liilliilrccl  tliouMiiiiil  iiifii,  uiulfi-  the  leiiilerMliip  of  tlio 
renowned  (fodfrey  de  tiuuillon,  who  laid  sicKc  to  ail  I 
eoji(|Heri'd  .Jeiusalein,  A.  U.  109a. 

With  the  le^ioiiM  of  infantry  passiiiK  in  review  be- 
fore (iodfrey,  some  of  tli<'  inouiiti'd  knights  which  onr 
poet  tells  UM  took  part  in  the  imposing  M|)ectacle,  were 
IVom  one  seetion  of  France: 

A  thousand  these,  fompletely  feiieed  in  mail, 

I'aeeil  the  green  turf;  a  choice  like  troop  succeeds, 

111  courage,  discipline  and  massive  scale 
( )f  armor  like  the  first,  —  on  generous  steeds 

Borne  to  the  battle  from  their  northern  meads, 

,  Ten  gallant  hundreils. 

And  from  another  part  of  France,  Baldwin,  the  brother 
of  (iodfrey,  leads 

Four  hmidred  knights,  the  bravest  of  the  land; 
And  thrice  that  nnmber,  armed,  on  prancing  steeds. 

Anil  of  the  contingent  from  Oreice  lie  savs: 

Lean  coursers  have  (liey,  in  the  race  renowned, 
I'loof  to  fatigue,  of  diet  s|.ari'  and  slight; 

Moiinted  on  these  they  seem  to  wing  the  ground : 
Nimble  in  onset  and  in  flight. 

F-iir  Rinnldo  and  brave  Tancred  of  the  Crusaders 
ami  (iieir  horses  be  thus  mentions: 

So  sweetly  Herce  that  when  his  face  is  shown 
You  deem  him  love,  but  more  when  helmed  and  steeled 
He  n.ounts  his  fiery  Barb  and  fulmines  through  the 
field. 


Tub  Hob8B  m  Sciairoi  Airo  Litibatubr.    188 

Then  Tucred  followi  to  the  war,  than  whom, 
Save  yoDne  Rinaldo,  there  ia  no  nobler  knight 
Eight  hondred  hone  have  left  beneath  hie  sway 
Campania's  Paradise,  a  pomp  of  scene 
The  noblest  sure  that  nature  in  her  play 
Of  power  e'er  shaped. 

And  on  the  morning  of  their  departure  for  the  seat 
of  conflict  the  sun  reflected  from  their  shields  and 
armor  with  such  refulgence  that  it  seemed: 

The  broad  air  bums  with  glory,  like  a  bright 
And  boundless  conflagration ;  neighing  shrill 

From  fierce  steeds  romping  in  their  wild  delight. 
Mix  with  the  sound  of  smitten  steel,  and  All 
The  deafening  country  round,  hill  answering  loud 
to  hilL 

And  when  the  combatants  meet  in  bloody  encounter  our 
poet  gives  us  many  realistic  pictures  of  the  deadly 
contest: 

StiU  Dndon  flushed  with  coniiuest  gave  the  rein 
To  his  curvetting  horse,  that  with  a  bound 

Bore  down  the  fierce  Tizranes ;  not  in  vain 
The  sharp  sword  struck ;  he  headless  fell  to  ground. 

And  wounded  Tancred,  hearing  that  his  lady  love  was 
also  wounded  in  an  engagement. 

Climbs  to  his  steed,  the  strange  event  to  explore. 

And  following  the  footmarks  freshly  traced. 

Glides  like  a  shooting  star  across  the  moonbright  waste. 

In  those  far-off  times  personal  encounter  and  prow- 
ess frequently  settled  the  conflict  of  contending  armies, 
and  of  these  Tasso  gives  such  vivid  and  realistic  de- 
scription as  no  other  pen  has  ever  depicted.  With 
these  in  this  article  I  have  nothing  to  do,  but  I  tran- 
scribe our  poet's  description  of  the  mount  of  the  Count 


MtaOCOPY    RESOLUTION   TIST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0    [rl^  i^ 


'=  llllli 

"25  liu 


A     APPLIED  IKA4GE     In, 


1653   East 
Rocheslc. 

-  OiCO  -  P«ofie 

50,      „« 

('16) 

2B8 

-  5989  -  Fo. 

184 


Gathered  "Waipxets. 


Toulouse  when  going  forth  to  meet  in  deadly  personal 
combat  the  fierce  Argantes  of  the  Saracens: 

His  eyes  defiance  fiashed, 
And  ill  could  he  endure  the  imputed  shame : 
His  courage  stigmatized,  more  fierce  became, 

Ground  on  the  whetstone  of  his  wrath ;  that,  freed 
*  rom  all  prevention,  a  delay  so  tame 

He  breaks,  and  leaps  to  AquiUine,  his  steed. 
Named  from  the  northern  wind,  and  like  that  wind 
in  speed. 

Upon  the  banks  of  Tagus  was  he  bred, 
Where  oft  the  mothers  of  those  martial  steeds, 

W  hen  with  her  warmth-inspiring  spring  has  fed 
The  eager  heat  which  genial  instinct  breeds. 

Mad  o'er  the  mountain,  o'er  the  spacious  meads, 
Run  open-mouthed  against  the  winds  of  May 

And  greedily  receive  their  fruitful  seeds ; 
Whence  growing  quick  they  (singukr  to  say) 
Give,  when  ripe  time  rolls  around,  their  issue  to  the 
day. 

And  to  see  Aquilline  you  say : 

None  but  the  sprightly  wind  could  be  his  sire, 
ho  instantly  his  feet  cut  short  the  way; 

Swift  to  run  forward,  nimble  to  retire 

And  wheel  to  right  and  left  in  narrowest  gyre, 
1  et  leaves  no  print  upon  the  sands  he  trode,— 

Playful,  yet  proud;   though  gentle,  full  of  fire; 
Such  the  Count's  steed. 

Against  him  in  combat  we  are  told  that  Argantes 
"his  coal-black  steed  he  urged  with  all  his  might," 
and,  as  if  to  show  the  development  and  education  of 
the  horse  in  those  days,  Tasso  thus  describes  the  en- 
counter between  them : 
The  pagan,  weary  of  such  futile  play. 

To  gripe  his  foe,  next  tries  each  strong  resource ; 


The  Horse  in  Science  and  Literature.    183 

But  he,  lest  the  colossal  bulk  should  weigh 

To  earth  both  steed  and  rider,  shuns  his  force ; 

Now  strikes ;  now  yields ;  and  in  his  circling  course. 
As  though  endowed  with  viewless  wings,  maintains 

The  rotary  war;  his  matchless  horse 
Obeys  each  mandate  of  the  fluttering  reins ; 
Nor  one  false  footstep  o'er  his  nimbleness  restrains. 

Raymond  is  wounded  unlawfully  and  Godfrey  urges 
his  knights  to  redress  the  wrong : 
There  were  seen  visors  closing,  war  barbs  bounding. 

Tight  bridles  slacked  and  lances  laid  in  rest. 

So  instantly  both  hosts  to  battle  pressed, 
Their  course  was  finished  as  it  seemed  begun ; 

Sands  stamped  to  dust,  the  vanquished  space  con- 
fessed 
Which,  whirleil  in  breezy  billows,  dense  and  dun, 
Soared  to  the  steep  of  heaven,  and  veiled  the  shining  sun. 

And  where  shall  we  look  for  a  better  or  more  strik- 
ing description  of  the  fiery  war-horse  than  in  tlie  com- 
parison that  our  poet  draws  between  him  and  the 
tierce  warrior  Argillan : 

As  when  a  wild  steed  in  the  states  of  kings 

Fed  for  the  battle,  from  his  manger  breaks : 
O'er  vales,  o'er  mountains,  to  liis  loves  lie  springs. 

Seeks  the  known  meads,  or  to  the  river  takes ; 

Ilis  curled  mane  dances  on  liis  back ;  he  shakes 
His  hauglity  head  aloft ;  his  broad  hoofs  sound 

Like  the  black  thunder;  while  the  bright  fire  flakes 
Struck  forth  from  his  swift  trampling,  burn  the  ground. 
And  with  his  neighings  slirill  he  fills  the  world  around. 

The  charger  of  the  page  to  tlie  Soldan  he  thus  de- 
scribes : 
His  steed  for  wliiteness  matclied  tlie  snows  that  drift 

On  the  high  Appenines ;  the  lights  that  glance 
In  Arctic  skies  are  not  more  lithe  and  swift 

Than  he  to  run,  to  twine,  to  wheel,  to  prance. 


18G 


Gathered  AVaiflets. 


And  when  Ismeno,  in  the  guise  of  a  stranger,  per- 
suaJes  8olyman  to  desist  from  his  contemplated 
flight  into  Egypt  for  succor,  and  to  accompany  him 
to  a  place  of  safety  from  the  advancing  Crusaders,  he 
gives  us  this  picture : 

His  magic  car  stood  ready  at  command. 

They  mount;   the  stranger,  shunning  all  delay, 
Shook  the  rich  reins,  and  with  a  master  hand 

Lashed   the   black   steeds,   that,  romping,  scoured 
away 

So  swift  that  not  the  sands  a  trace  betray 
Of  hoof  or  wheel ;  they  vanish  aa  they  came. 

Proudly  precipitant,  and  snort  and  neigh. 
Paw  the  parched  soil,  and,  ardent  for  their  home. 
Champ  their  resplendent  bits  all  white  with  fleecy 
foam. 

And  where  shall  we  find  a  better  description  of  a 
sick  horse : 

Sickens  the  late  fierce  steed ;  untasted,  loathed 
Stands  his  once-relished,  once-saluted  corn ; 

The  dancing  mane  and  neck  with  thunder  clothed, 
Droops  to  the  ground ;  the  pride  of  laurels  won 

No  more  dilates  his  nostrils,  swells  his  veins ; 
Glory  his  hatred ;  victory  seems  his  scorn ; 

His  rich  caparisons,  embroidered  reins. 

And  sumptuous  trophies,  all  as  baubles  he  disdains. 

The  contingent  of  Bedouin  Arabs  in  the  army  of 
the  Saracens  Tasso  describes  as  mounted 

Upon  steeds  so  nimble  sweep  along 

You'd  say  a  whirlwind  blew  them  past,  if  e'er 
The  wings  of  whirlwinds  had  a  speed  so  strong. 

Dull  and  sodden  would  he  be  who  would  not  And 
his  blood  more  swiftly  coursing  through  his  veins  and 
his  arm  taking  on  renewed  energy  when  reading  Tasso's 


The  Horse  in  Science  and  Litekature.    187 


inspiring  description  of  a  battle  and  the  conuuct  of 
horses  therein: 

O !  it  was  a  grand  and  monstrous  sight. 

Ere  front  to  front  the  marshalled  hosts  combined, 
To  mark  how  nobly  in  the  ranks  each  knight 

Burned  to  move  on  and  for  the  signal  pined ! 

How  the  loose  flags  Hew  billowing  on  the  wind; 
How  on  ten  thousand  hea<ls  the  featliers  danced ; 

How  .obes,  impresses,  gems  and  arms  refined, 
Of  all  rich  colors,  gold  and  steel  advanced 
Before  the  flouted  sun,  smiled,  sparkled,  flashed  and 
glanced. 

Like  a  tall  forest  of  dark  pines  depressed 

Both  armies  strew,  so  thick  the  spears  abound ; 
Drawn  are  the  bows,  the  lances  laid  in  rest, 

^'ibrate  the  darts,  the  glowing  slings  whirl  round  ; 

Each  waiTing  horse  is  on  the  wing  to  bound 
Through  the  snuflfed  battle;  to  the  greeting  gales 

Spreads  his  broad  nostrils,  paws  the  echoing  ground, 
His  lord's  fury  whets  and  countervails, 
Foams,  prances,  snorts  and  neighs,  and  fire  and  smoke 
exhales. 

And  when  the  wars  are  ended  and  the  horse  returned 
to  pastoral  life  he  forgets  not  war-time  excitements 
and  fascinations : 
As  the  fierce  steed  from  busy  war  withdrawn, 

A  while  to  riot  in  voluptuous  ease 
'Midst  his  loved  mares,  loose  wantons  o'er  the  lawn. 

If  chance  he  hears  once  more  upon  the  breesie 

The  spirit-stirring  trumpet  sound,  or  sees 
The  flash  of  armor,  thither,  ff>»  or  near. 

He  bounds,  he  neighs,  he        ^ces  on  the  leas. 
Burning  to  hurl  to  war  the       lioteer, 

Clash  with  the  rattling  car  and  snap  the  sparkling 
spear. 
— The  American  Horse  Breeder,  March  9,  1897. 


lifj 


TROTTING  RECORDS  AN  IMPORTANT  FAC- 
TOR WHEN  BREEDING  FOR  SPEED. 


AT  no  time  in  the  history  of  the  world  has  the 
breeding  and  development  of  the  horse  received 
greater  attention  than  now,  and,  as  a  necessary 
consequence,  we  have  greater  success  and  a  higher  type 
of  horse  than  was  hitherto  known.  Advance  in  the 
future,  >  wing  to  the  high  plain  already  reached,  will 
of  necessity  be  slower  than  it  was  in  the  immediate 
past,  and  those  engaged  in  the  laudable  effort  to  ele- 
vate this  noble  animal  to  greater  perfection  and 
achievement  will  have  to  unite  the  highest  scientific 
attainments  and  keenest  observation  and  deep  study 
to  succeed  than  have  many  of  to-day  who  have  achieved 
not  only  success  but  also  worldly  distinction  and 
wealth.  Haphazard  and  chance  will  have  to  give  way 
to  demonstrated  methods  founded  in  higher  science 
backed  by  all  the  aid  that  observation,  experience, 
enterprise  and  wealth  can  render.  Every  factor  that 
enters  into  the  tout  ensemble  of  the  American  trotter, 
the  higliest  type  of  horse  development,  must  be  duly 
weighed  and  considered,  not  only  in  its  proximate 
but  remote  bearings,  and  assigned  Its  proper  place  and 
iniiiortunce  in  the  category  of  scientific  breeding; 
e\ery  nook  and  cranny  must  be  exploi  1  and  investi- 
gated, the  grain  of  solid  fact  sifted  from  the  bushel  of 
cliaff  of  empiricism,  untenable  theory  and  loose  meth- 
ods; and,  lead  whithersoever  they  will,  legitimate  de- 


Trotting  Records  an  Important  Fai.tor.    189 

ductions  and  conclusions  must  be  accepted  even  thouj;h 
they  militate  against  pre-conceived  conclusions  and 
obstinate  prejudices. 

It  is  not  entering  upon  the  domain  of  prophecy  to 
assert  that  those  wlio  conform  their  breeding  ventures 
to  the  lines  indicated  will  be  the  breeders  most  likely 
to  breed  the  horse  that  will  he  the  first  to  achieve  the 
distinction  of  trotting  or  pacing  a  mile  in  two  minutes, 
should  such  feat  ever  be  performed. 

These  ideas  may  be  called  truisms  tliat  no  one  dis- 
putes, but  they  are  called  forth  at  this  time  by  an  arti- 
cle on  page  888  of  The  American  Trotter  (issue  of 
November  19, 1801),  which  begins  with  this  statement: 
"Probably  nothing  can  be  more  misleading  to  the  young 
and  inexperienced  breeder  than  a  superficial  study  of 
trotting  records." 

AVithout  arguing  this  point  now,  which  would  take 
us  entirely  beyond  the  intent  and  scope  of  this  article, 
and  which  after  all  might  result  in  no  good,  the  writer 
risks  nothing  by  asserting  that  this  very  study  and 
comparison  of  trotting  records  is  the  chief  corner-stone 
upon  which  is  built  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  nine- 
teenth century — the  American  trotting  and  pacing 
horse.  lie  may  be  pardoned,  and  his  contention  ac- 
cepted, if  in  confirmation  of  this  assertion  he  may 
quote  the  breeding  e.\perience  of  Mr.  C.  A\'.  AVilliams, 
the  proprietor  of  this  paper,  and  ask  upon  which  he 
based  his  reason — wliether  upon  the  breeding  or  upon 
the  trotting  records — when  he  bred  the  celebrated 
horses,  AUerton  and  A.\tell  l  But,  it  may  be  urged , 
"One  swallow  does  not  make  a  summer."  Be  it  so ; 
then  we  ask  why  does  Mr.  Williams  propose  to  breed 
ten  fillies,  as  noted  elsewhere  in  the  same  paper,  to 


I'.H) 


Gatiierkd  Waiflkts. 


Senator  Stanford's  ArionS  Certainly  he  has  now  ample 
means  at  his  disposal  and  he  has  had  longer  time  in 
which  to  study  the  breeding  problem.  There  are 
plenty  of  stallions  of  the  same  blood  lines  (breeding) 
more  available  to  him  and  standing  at  but  a  tithe  of 
Arion's  service  fee,  but  without  Arion's  trotting  record. 
And,  \vt>  will  ask,  has  he,  too,  been  misled  by  a  study, 
superticiul  or  otherwise,  of  Arion's  speed  record  i  And 
if  with  Arion's  tal)ulated  pedigree  spread  out  before 
him  he  wouhl  breed  a  single  filly  to  liim  if  he  had  no 
track  record  or  reputiition  as  a  sire  of  speed  i  It  is 
too  well  known  to  need  further  elucidation  now  that 
the  practice  of  the  most  advanced  and  successful 
breeders  of  speed  throughout  tlie  whole  extent  of  our 
country  coincides  with  that  of  Mr.  Williams.  This 
practice  is  carried  so  far  that  mares  will  be  sent  from 
the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacilic  and  vice  veraa  at  fabulous 
expense  to  be  bred  to  stallions  holding  race  track  rec- 
ords. Their  pedigree  and  family  genealogy  from 
earliest  times  may  be  published  from  end  to  end  of 
the  country,  but  the  "misleading"  trotting  records  fix 
their  star  in  the  firmament  and  draw  the  choicest 
matrons  not  only  of  "the  young  and  inexperienced 
breeders,"  but  also  those  of  the  older  and  more  astute 
and  successful,  to  their  harems  and  adds  the  most  dol- 
lars to  their  owner's  bank  account.  So  much  by  way 
of  objection  and  protest  to  the  flippant,  thoughtless 
disparagement  of  trotting  records. 

Now,  as  previously  stated,  the  breeder  of  the  future 
must  bring  to  bear  upon  the  speed  breeding  problem 
great  ability,  keen  discernment,  optimistic  enterprise 
above  and  beyond  what  has  so  well  succeeded  in  the 
past  if  he  hopes  for  greater  success  and  desires  to  win 


Trotting  Records  an  Important  Factor.   191 

new  laurels,  and  if  "a  careful  study  of  the  characteris- 
tics of  a  family  be  of  great  importance" — and  who 
questions  but  what  it  is  i — the  inquiry  at  once  forces 
itself,  why  does  not  The  American  Trotter  take  up 
the  subject  and  treat  it  scientifically  in  its  columns  ? 
It  is  well  to  remember  that  there  are  thousands  to-day 
interested  in  all  phases  of  the  breeding  problem  who 
have  not  access,  and  never  have  had,  to  publications 
treating  upon  the  subject ;  and  some  who  have  may 
not  find  time  in  this  busy,  hustling  age  to  pore  over 
tomes  that  wo'-.ld  almost  demand  a  life-time  of  genteel 
leisure  to  read  through  and  digest.  And  who  can 
better  do  this  for  them  than  the  person,  firm  or  corpo- 
ration that  they  employ  to  do  their  thinking  for  them 
and  to  point  the  way  in  the  columns  of  publications 
devoted  to  the  subject  at  a  stated  price  per  annum  ? 

AV^hat  horse  breeders  of  to-<lny  want  are  concentra- 
ted facts — concise  and  terse,  and  couched  in  non-tech- 
nical language — upon  a  basis  of  demonstrated  accom- 
plishment and  no  fanciful  opinions  or  attempts  to 
bolster  up  exploded  traditions,  fanciful  theories,  and 
obsti-'ite  cross-road  prejudices.  Tlie  publication  that 
8er\  s  up  such  a  menu  to  its  readers  will  be  as  a 
beacon  light  to  point  the  way  and  confer  a  lasting 
benefit  upon  the  horse-breeding  world.  Lengthy  cor- 
respondence, however  gossipy  and  interesting,  no 
matter  how  rounded  tlie  periods  and  smooth  tiie  dic- 
tion, can  never  supidy  tlie  place  of  tlie  solid  and  last- 
ing. Let  us  liope  that  the  latest  horse  publication. 
The  American  Trotter,  will  lie  the  first  to  enter  tliis 
broad  and  largely  uncultivated  field  and  with  its  charac- 
teristic enterprise  and  dash  give  to  the  horse-breeding 
public  and  its  readers  what  the  article  in  question  by 


1112 


Oatiikked  Waiklkts. 


fair  and  logical  inference  clearly  intimates  that  it  has 
on  tap  in  abunilant  Hupply — the  orij^in  of  the  leading 
families  of  race  track  horses,  the  different  strains  of 
blood  that  are  united  in  the  most  speedy,  their  develop- 
ment and  growth  in  speed,  their  leading  traits  and 
idiosyncracies,  particularly  in  relation  to  heredity. — 
The  American  Trotter,  December  3,  1891. 


THE  NEW  ENGLAND  FARM  AND  FARMER 


THE  old  saying,  "The  Lord  helps  those  who  help 
themselves,"  is  as  true  and  forceful  to-day  as 
on  the  day  when  it  was  first  uttered.  The 
converse  is  equally  true  and  forceful.  All  know  that 
God  does  not  furnish  loaves  of  bread  ready  baked 
because  He  demands  and  expects  man's  enterprise  and 
co-operation.  He  gives  the  seed  time  and  the  harvest, 
and  man,  in  obedience  to  His  will  and  fiat,  must  do 
the  rest.  If  he  fails  to  do  his  share,  it  is  hardly  fair 
or  becoming  to  throw  the  blame  upon  a  benign  and 
kindly  Providence. 

That  farming  in  New  England  is  not  what  it  should 
be,  either  in  variety,  extent  or  results,  goes  without 
saying,  and  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  seek  the  reason 
and  apply  the  remedy.  It  is  well  within  the  recollec- 
tion of  people  now  living  when  hundreds  and  thou- 
sands of  ducks,  geese,  turkeys,  lambs,  veal  calves,  as 
well  as  horses,  cows  and  oxen  were  raised  in  nearly 


TiiK  N'kw  Hn 


sn  Kaiim   ami  Kaiimkh.        \'X' 


every  fiirniitiK  eoiiiiMi"iity,  ami  tlie  fanner  I'oiiin)  a 
reaily  ami  protitulile  iii.irket  for  tlieiii  when  there  were 
no  ineanx  uf  tran^|lllrtatilln  other  than  turnpike  rciailM, 
Miir  the  many  k<><>'I  markets  ill  the  numerous  ami 
liensely  [Kipuhiteil  eities  comparalile  with  our  ilay. 

Ijurg(^  families,  thrift,  success,  ami  contentment  wi'ro 
then  everywhere  In  evidence  ami  a  sulistautial  incre- 
nii'iit  rewanled  tlii'  earnest  ami  enterprising  husiiaml- 
inaii. 

WitI:  nipiilly  increasing  population  ami  growing 
<le':iaml  for  every  product  of  the  farm,  uml  improved 
agricultural  implenu'nts  ami  conditions,  it  may  be  wed 
to  ask  why  fanners  generally  are  now  so  unsuccessful, 
impecunious,  and  discontented  with  their  lot. 

In  the  not  remote  jiast,  hut  liefore  railroads  were 
built  to  outlying  ])laces  in  Xew  England,  enterprising 
farmers  were  not  slow  to  raise  flocks  of  lan;bs  and  tur- 
keys that  were  driven  over  laud  on  foot  hundreds  of 
miles  to  distant  markets.  The  writer  well  reineinber.s 
seeing  such  Hocks  of  lambs  and  turkeys  gathered  to- 
gether ill  the  extreme  northerly  |)art  of  Vermont  and 
beyond  the  boundary  line  in  Canada,  and  driven  on 
foot  to  Brighton,  and  farmers  raised  these  Hocks  and 
farmers  marketed  these  Mocks  —  they  allowed  no 
middlenuiu  as  a  factor  ami  profit  sharer.  WitI:  in- 
creased dennmd  and  improved  facilities  wliere  are  the 
farmers  in  Xew  England  to-ilay  who  are  as  enterjjris- 
ing  and  energetic?  With  lambs  selling  in  the  spring- 
time and  early  sunnner  at  fifty  to  sixty  cents  ')er 
pound,  an<l  turkeys  at  Thanksgiving  at  thirty  cents 
and  more,  who  will  say  that  both  cannot  be  i)rofitabIy 
raised  and  marketed  in  Xew  Englanil .'  And  that 
many  of  the  abandone<l  farms  might  not  be  profitably 
devoted  thereto? 


If, 


194 


(jATHF.KF.n    Waiki.etji. 


It  may  uIho  Ih-  wi-ll  to  rvciM  tlie  fact  tliat  at  no  diH- 
tant  (lay  tli«Ti'  wore  raiswl  in  Nnw  Kngland  breetling 
laiiit)»  that  wiTo  hoKI  for  xeviTal  tlioUHanU  dollars  eacli, 
and  that  U-came  tlic  foundation  Htock  of  many  of 
tin-  flncst  HocUh  of  Hlieep  in  tlie  world.  Wliat  has 
lifcumc  of  tluH  industry  and  tliiw  enterprise  in  New 
KuKland  —  tliis  rieli  reward  for  brains  and  effort! 
Hail  the  chililren  of  these  people  kept  pace  witli  the 
development  and  value  of  the  stock  raised  upon  the 
farms  of  their  parents  and  ancestors,  would  we  now 
find  them  so  generally  members  of  the  army  of 
■'rumblers  and  fault  finders! 

Morgan  horses  hail  their  origin  and  home  in  New 
England  —  a  ty])e  of  horse  unexcelled  and  unequalled 
in  its  day  —  a  type  of  horse  that  s  lould  have  been  fos- 
tered and  preserved,  and  developtd  to  greater  perfec- 
tion and  higher  8ttainment^■  by  the  descendants  of 
their  more  determined  and  enterprising  ancestors. 
The  vigor  of  the  Morgans  was  never  questioned,  and 
their  prepotent  blood  to-day  successfully  blends  in 
the  pedigrees  of  the  most  noted  horses  of  the  world  — 
the  American  trotters.  It  was  my  good  fortune,  as 
it  was  a  deliglitful  pleasure,  to  have  for  many  years 
enjoyed  the  acquaintance  and  friendship  of  the  late 
Archibald  C.  Harris,  formerly  superintendent  of  the 
extensive  ami  successful  stock  farm  of  Denny  and 
Bush  in  Bridport,  Vt.,  during  the  palmy  days  of  the 
great  stallion,  Daniel  Lambert.  Lest  I  may  be  sus- 
pected if  not  directly  charged  witli  exaggeration,  I 
will  not  state  the  earnings  of  this  horse  in  the  stud, 
but  the  amount  would  annually  approximate  the  net 
profits  of  more  than  a  half  hundred  farms  of  the  state. 
On  the  death  of  one  of  the  owners  the  horse  stock  of 


TiiK  Nkw  Exdi-AXD  Farm  anu  Fak.mkk.     li'.l 

thia  (arm  wait  vloRed  nut  at  publio  auutinn  in  KoHton 
and  it  was  the  larj^Hxt  hhIh  of  hnrites  anil  by  far  th» 
higkegt  prices  were  paid  tliat  were  ever  reali%e<l  liitli- 
erto  at  a  public  itale  in  New  Kn^^land.  Thin  Hrm  wan 
also  BuceesHful  breeilera  of  tine  merino  sheep — Home 
of  their  rams  Helling;  well  up  into  the  tliousands. 

Nor  were  the  M<>r;;an  horses*  the  only  noted  horsesf 
in  New  Kn^lan<l.  The  tanners  of  Maine  were  sutti- 
ciently  adventurous  and  eaterprisiux  to  secure  in  earli- 
est times  a  son  of  tlie  renowned  imported  Messenger, 
who  elevated  tlie  horse  stock  of  the  state  to  a  liiuiier 
level,  and  left  his  mark  of  superiority  tliat  is  clearly 
in  evidence  to-<luy,  althoujth  sadly  hiwered  by  indiffer- 
ence and  neglect.  (len.  Knox  was  another  New  Kng- 
land  hot-ie  tliat  also  left  liis  mark  and  made  a  fortune 
for  his  owner;  the  first  liorse  in  the  country  for  whicli 
the  then  fabulous  amount  of  ijiri.uiH)  was  offered  and 
refused.  Since  his  time  ^I'i.'i.oiMi  has  bt^n  paid  for  a 
8in|;le  horse  by  a  resident  of  New  England  to  a  more 
enterprising  farmer  and  breeder  in  a  western  state. 

A  few  years  back  the  sale  catalogues  of  an  auction 
firm  announcing  a  sale  of  valuable  blooded  stock,  con- 
tained a  map  showing  Boston  as  a  central  point,  and 
including  the  country  within  a  radius  of  five  hundred 
miles.  From  their  many  previous  sales  and  tabula- 
tions they  learned,  and  so  published  in  this  catalogue, 
that  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  all  the  fine  horses  bought, 
and  the  long  prices  paiii  for  them — the  kind  that  sohl 
for  one,  two,  five,  ten,  and  fifty  thousand  dollars  and 
upwards — were  bouglit  and  paid  for  by  residents  within 
the  territory  shown.  And  yet  with  this  great  market 
at  their  very  doors  it  is  unnecessary  to  ask  how  much 
of  all  this  expenditure  profited  the  New  England  far- 


196 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


■\    'it 


mer.    And  yet  we  are  told  by  them  that  horses  cannot 
be  profitably  raised  in  New  England.     Save  the  mark! 

THE   ORCHARDS   OF   NEW   ENGLAND 

also  very  generally  set  the  seal  upon  the  lack  of  ability 
and  enterprise  of  the  farmers.  The  old  orchards  were 
alike  a  credit  and  a  source  of  profit  to  those  who  planned 
and  planted  them,  but  to-day,  alas!  in  their  neglected 
and  overgrown  condition  they  are  neither  a  thing  of 
beauty  nor  profit — they  are  now  too  often  but  as  the 
decayed  and  decaying  gravestones  that  mark  the  graves 
of  their  former  proud  owners.  No  better  soil  or  cli- 
mate exists  in  this  country  than  in  many  parts  of  New 
i;n  eland  for  the  profitable  cultivation  of  grapes,  cher- 
ries, peaches,  apples  and  pears — and  yet  do  the  farmers 
rise  equal  to  their  opportunities  3  In  off  fruit  years 
they  as  with  a  single  voice  bemoan  the  uncertain  and 
sad  lot  of  the  farmer,  and  in  years  of  great  abundance, 
instead  of  getting  a  hustle  on — to  use  a  modem  and 
expressive  colloquialism — and  properly  securing  and 
marketing  their  crops,  with  re-iterated  emphasis  again 
bemoan  their  fate  because  there  is  such  a  superabund- 
ance that  "they  are  not  worth  the  pickin." 

I  have  often  wondered  if  these  farmers  had  to  go  to 
the  Pacific  Coast  to  find  a  market  for  such  crops  or  to 
the  poor  house,  at  which  place  should  we  find  them. 
And  yet  the  farmer  of  the  Occident  not  only  success- 
fully disputes  the  Eastern  market  with  his  mote  favored 
brothers,  but  he  also  crosses  the  ocean  and  markets  his 
products  in  the  British  Isles  and  on  the  Continent  of 
Europe,  and  is  happy  and  grows  wealthy  by  so  doing. 

The  trouble  witli  New  England  farming  is  not  diffi- 
cult to  discover,  and  the  farmers  alone  must  apply  the 
remedy.  Who  will  take  the  initiative  and  point  the 
way  i — The  American  Cultivator,  June  6,  1908. 


A  SOURCE  OF  INCOME. 


*  1        .', 


POSSIBILITIES   OF    THE   TROUT    BROOK. 

BETWEEN  the  upper  and  nether  stones  of  gov- 
ernmental indifference  and  neglect  on  the  one 
hand,  and  diminished  and  diminishing  values 
on  the  other,  the  lot  of  the  farmer  is  not  one  to  be 
envied ;  and,  judging  the  future  by  the  past,  if  amelior- 
tion  comes  to  him  at  all  it  will  be  because  of  his 
awakened  entrrprise,  skill  and  perseverance,  and  by 
adapting  himself  to  the  new  conditions  imposed  by  an 
advanced  and  advancing  civilization. 

It  behooves  him  to  abandon  antiquated,  worthless 
ideas  and  methods,  profitless  labor,  and  unremunera- 
tive  efforts  which  in  other  times  and  other  circum- 
stances may  have  been  both  wise  and  profitable,  but 
which  under  present  conditions  are  neither  one  nor 
the  other.  He  must  advance  by  long  leaps  and  place 
himself  abreast  of  the  civilization  of  to-day  and  its 
demands  if  he  would  receive  the  recompense  of  the 
enterprising  and  deserving. 

One  of  the  ways  in  which  this  may  be  done,  and 
which  has  proved  highly  successful  and  very  profit- 
able iu  some  parts  of  our  country,  is  the  restocking 
of  the  trout  brooks. 

We  have  a  country  most  beautifully  diversified  by 
hill  and  dale,  sylvan  grove  and  fertile  field  ;  and  the 
rippling  brook,  ever  sparkling  in  the  sun,  ever  sing- 
ing its  tuneful  melody  as  it  winds  its  tortuous  course 


I'' 


^ 


,  iS 


198 


Gathered  Waiplets. 


J 
i   .. 


i  '1 


through  the  meadow,  adds  undying  charms  to  the  land- 
scape. As  we  look  upon  the  wealth  of  marsh  mari- 
golds which  fringe  its  margin,  tread  upon  the  rich 
carpet  of  violets,  and  behold  the  nodding  watercress  in 
its  pellucid  depths,  dull  and  sodden  indeed  must  be  the 
individual  who  does  not  find  new  inspiration  rising 
within  him,  his  mind  and  heart  lifted  up  to  higher 
things,  his  daily  toil  sweetened  and  the  burdens  of  life 
materially  lightened.  But  sentiment  alone  pays  no 
interest  upon  the  mortgage  on  the  farm,  and  it  neither 
makes  good  soup  for  the  table  nor  fuel  for  the  fire, 
but  joined  with  sense  it  makes  an  invincible  combina- 
tion that  is  sure  to  triumph  over  every  obstacle  and 
win  success. 

In  former  times  these  brooks  abounded  in  toothsome, 
gamy  trout  that  rejoiced  the  heart  of  the  angler  when 
he  stole  an  hour  from  the  exhausting  labor  and  drudg- 
ery of  the  farm  and  spent  it  in  their  capture  no  less 
than  when  the  result  furnished  the  family  a  highly 
prized  and  toothsome  meaL 

Many  of  the  most  valued  recollections  of  men  now 
bowed  down  under  the  weight  of  years,  who  have 
achieved  highest  distinction  in  the  halls  of  legislation, 
on  the  bench,  and  in  collossal  manufacturing,  mercan- 
tile and  financial  enterprises,  are  the  days  spent  in 
boyhood  beside  the  trout  brooks  when  an  indulgent 
parent  granted  them  a  holiday  from  the  drudgery  of 
their  daily  toil 

Owing  largely  to  the  cutting  off  of  the  woodlands 
and  the  exposure  of  the  brooks  to  the  burning  sun,  ex- 
cessive drouth,and  much  fishing,  the  brooks  are  now  well 
nigh  depleted,  and  they  furnish  but  little  incentive, 
pleasure  or  reward  to  the  most  patient,  persis  ient  angler. 


A  Source  of  Income. 


199 


Many  of  our  states,  wisely  realizing  the  importance 
of  so  doing,  and  tlie  great  economic  advantages  result- 
ing therefrom,  have  established  hatcheries  for  the  arti- 
ficial propagation  of  trov*  for  the  purpose  of  restock- 
ing the  streams,  and  to  n  •.  le  the  work  general,  and  so 
the  least  wealthy  may  lia\  the  benefit  thereof,  young 
(alevin)  trout  are  furnished  free  of  charge  to  all  who 
apply  for  them,  provided  they  have  suitable  waters  in 
which  to  liberate  them. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  statistics  show  that  the 
farmers  above  all  others  who  should  be  interested  in 
this  work  have  been  least  so,  and  philanthropists  and 
the  much  despised  sportsmen  have  done  the  bulk  of 
the  work  of  re-stocking  the  streams  that  has  been 
accomplished. 

Surely  this  must  be  owing  to  tlie  fact  that  the  at- 
tention of  farmers  has  not  been  sufficiently  called 
thereto,  or  that  its  importance  is  not  fully  realized. 

The  farmers  cannot  be  indifferent  in  this  matter  to 
the  gospel  which  they  endeavor  to  embody  in  their 
everyday  life  —  to  make  two  blailes  of  grass  grow 
where  but  one  grew  before;  to  the  greater  attraction 
this  would  give  to  the  farm  in  the  eyes  of  the  growing 
boy  and  make  him  contented  to  stay  thereon  instead  of 
drifting  to  the  distant  city  too  often  to  be  swallowed 
up  in  its  temptations  and  snares ;  to  the  consciousness 
of  having  brought  buck  to  tlie  waters  of  the  brook  on 
the  old  homestead  one  of  its  chief  attractions  for  the 
grandfather  whose  dust  has  long  since  mingled  with 
the  mold  in  the  churchyard ;  and  to  have  placed  within 
his  reach  one  of  the  most  palatable  and  valued  food 
fishes. 

Should  the  mercenan.-  alone  prompt,  there  is  no  other 


*it 


200 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


part  of  the  fanu  that  will  so  well  reppy  all  necessary 
trouble  anil  expense,  as  the  laws  of  trespass  come  to 
his  aid  and  protect  him  in  his  riglits.  He  can  sell  for 
a  good  price  daily  penniasions  to  fish,  or  lease  the 
brook  by  the  season  and  count  a  clean  gain  of  many 
dollars  without  reference  to  a  backward  spring  oi 
untoward  weather  conditions  at  harvest  time.  Many 
farmers  now  make  good  money  by  taking  summer 
boarders  and  what  greater  attraction  to  offer  than 
a  well-stocked  trout  brook  f  And  who  more  ready  to 
give  up  good  dollars  of  the  realm  and  in  liberal  quan- 
tity than  the  city  sportsman  in  exchange  for  a  well- 
filled  creel?  or  wliat  more  pleasant  and  inexpensive 
entertainment  for  one's  city  friends  and  customers 
than  a  day  spent  under  bluest  skies  beside  the  purling 
trout  brook! 

The  fish  hatcheries  located  in  different  states  are 
now  about  to  make  their  annual  distribution  without 
charge,  but  should  more  be  demanded  than  the  capac- 
ity of  the  different  hatcheries  can  supply,  many  pri- 
vate parties  engaged  in  the  business  in  different  parts 
of  the  country  can  furnish  unlimited  quantities  at 
merely  nominal  prices,  and  there  exists  no  good  reason 
why  the  trout  brooks  of  the  land  should  not  become 
more  prolific  ti...u  ever  befoie  and  a  source  of  pleasure 
and  revenue  to  their  owners.  —  New  Euflland  Farmer, 
August  1,  1896. 


HOW  SABATTIS   GOT  HIS   CHRISTMAS 
DINNER. 


"The  Great  Spirit,  tlie  Creator,  Bsniled  upon  his  helpless 
Children" 


^^ry^HE  daughter  of  Natanis  will  have  fresh  meat 
I  for  Christmas  and  be  merry.  Sabattis'  bow 
is  strong  and  his  arrow  true.  Sabattis 
will  go." 

The  great  logs  in  the  crude  stone  fire-place  V-v.rned 
fiercely,  an<l  the  crackling  flames  gave  warmth  and 
added  cheer  and  comfort  to  the  little  log  cabin. 
Jerked  moose  meat  of  the  last  killing  in  the  deep 
snows  of  winter  time  hung  suspended  from  the  rafters, 
bear  skins  and  other  peltry  adorned  the  walls,  and 
beds  of  elastic,  fragrant  spruce  boughs  built  a  few 
feet  above  the  floor  upon  light,  springing  poles  of 
hackmatack  in  the  corners  of  the  cabin  opposite  to 
the  fireplace,  ogether  with  some  cooking  utensils  and 
crude  articles  of  furniture,  completed  the  furnishings 
and  adornment  of  the  cabin  home  of  Sabattis  and  the 
daughter  of  Natanis,  .he  chief  of  the  tribe,  now  his 
squaw  for  a  few  years. 

Humble  as  was  this  home  it  was  a  palace  in  conven- 
ience and  comfort  in  comparison  with  the  bark  and 
skin  wigwams  of  but  a  few  years  before,  and  which 
were  the  only  habitations  known  to  the  Indians  even 
in  coldest  winter  weather  before  the  advent  of  the 


202 


Gathered   Waiplets. 


1    U 


missionaries,  Recollects  and  Jesuits,  who  thus  im- 
pressed them  with  Christian  influences,  the  sanctity  of 
the  family,  the  superiority  of  the  sedentary  as  opposed 
to  the  nomadic  life,  and  other  Christian  virtues. 

"  But  sposem  bad  Heengleshmans  come  ag'in  from 
the  land  of  the  south-wind  way  off  and  shootem  our 
black  gown,  burn  our  church,  and  kill  your  squaw  and 
papooses,  and  all  the  peoples  t  Then  there  is  no  snow 
to  get  him  the  game,"  remonstrated  the  wife  and 
mother. 

"  Natanis  is  strong.  His  braves  have  the  heart  of 
bears  and  the  eyes  of  all  the  stars.  If  the  Engleesh 
come  they  will  find  a  grave-yard.  The  snow-maker 
made  a  big  ring  around  the  moon  last  night  —  he  will 
give  plenty  of  snow.  Sabattis  will  go  before  the  sun 
gets  out  of  bed  to-morrow  and  our  fire  will  cook  fresh 
meat  to  make  us  glad  at  Christmas." 

This  conversation  took  place  more  than  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  ago  at  Naurantsouak,  now  Nor- 
ridgewok,  on  the  banks  of  the  Kennebec  river,  in  the 
Linguage  ;.f  the  Conibas,  later  known  as  the  Norridge- 
woks,  an  extensive  tribe  of  the  great  Abenaki  nation. 

During  the  afternoon  Sabattis  visited  some  of  the 
warm  ravines  between  the  jutting,  craggy  hillsitie?  and 
gathered  an  armful  of  trailing  arbutus  —  the  great 
swelling  pink  buds  needing  only  the  blessing  of  warmth 
and  moisture  to  blossom  forth  in  all  their  wealth  of 
color  and  fragrance  as  in  early  spring. 

He  fashioned  three  beautiful  garlands  which  he 
placed  in  water  in  water-tight  basins  made  from  white 
birch  bark,  and  as  the  little  chapel  bell  sounded  the 
Angelus  he  wended  his  way  thither  and  placed  one 
upon  the  main  altar  beneath  the  lamp  of  perpetual 
adoration,  anotlier  upon  the  altar  of  Our  Lady,  and  the 


How  Sabattis  Got  Hi8  Christmas  Dinner.   203 

third  upon  the  altar  dedicated  to  the  holy  man,  Saint 
Joseph. 

Long  before  the  break  of  day  Sabattis  started  out 
alone  upon  his  joumi  to  secure  good  cheer  for  the 
Yuletide  season  in  his  humble  cabin.  AVinter  had 
not  yet  set  in,  there  was  but  an  apology  for  snow  upon 
the  ground,  and  but  little  ice  had  formed  along  the 
shores  of  the  slack  water. 

His  moccasins  pointed  towards  the  head  watere  of 
the  Sebastacook  where  it  takes  its  course  from  the  foot 
hills  and  mountains  beyond.  Camp  was  made  the 
first  night  many  miles  away  in  the  wilderness  towards 
the  land  of  the  setting  sun.  He  had  seen  no  game 
nor  signs  thereof  but  when  the  snow  would  come  all 
would  be  changed.  The  trail  was  resumed  with  earli- 
est dawn  and  every  nook  and  corner  carefully,  noise- 
lessly scrutinized  and  explored — and  yet  no  deer,  cari- 
bou, or  moose ! 

The  day  was  leaden  and  lifeless ;  dense  snow  clouds 
banked  the  horizon ;  no  sunshine  broke  through  the 
tree-tops  to  tell  him  the  hour  or  location.  Snow  in 
great  broad  flakes  began  to  fall,  and  darkness  follow- 
ing soon  after,  Sabattis  made  camp  near  the  summit  of 
the  divide  which  separates  the  Androscoggin  river 
from  the  Kennebec.  The  hooting  of  owls  and  the 
howling  of  hungry  wolves  were  his  only  companion- 
ship during  the  night.  The  morning  broke  clear  and 
intensely  cold  and  plenty  of  dry,  fluffy  snow  upon  the 
ground  made  ideal  conditions  for  successful  still  hunt- 
ing. 

Sabattis  would  now  surely  get  fresh  meat  for  Christ- 
mas. With  brave  heart  he  started  out  early  following 
along  the  highlands  which  skirt  the  southern  shore  of 


204 


Gathered  Waiplets. 


the  principal  tribntary  stream  as  it  journeys  along  in 
its  course  to  join  with  its  fellows  to  swell  the  waters  of 
the  Kennebec. 

He  soon  came  to  the  tracks  of  a  large  buck  which 
led  up  the  sloping  hillside  towards  the  heavy  growth 
of  timber  near  its  summit.  These  he  stealthily 
followed  for  some  time  until  he  came  to  a  place  where 
a  Loup  Cervier,  the  Indian  Devil  (f  the  wilderness, 
had  pounced  down  from  a  tree  upon  the  unsuspecting 
deer  and  dragging  him  to  earth  had  killed  him,  tear- 
ing to  pieces  and  destroying  in  his  blind  rage  what 
he  could  not  devour. 

He  was  soon  upon  a  new  trail  which  he  followed 
for  miles  only  to  find  where  a  pack  of  wolves  had 
taken  it  up  and  cut  him  out ; — and  so  it  was  through- 
out the  day — trail  after  trail  taken  up  and  followed 
only  to  end  in  disappointment. 

The  night  of  the  third  day  found  him  making  camp 
in  a  ravine  which  lies  between  the  range  of  hiUs  which 
divide  the  Wabaqnasset,  now  the  Sandy  river,  from 
the  Sebasticook.  He  was  tired.  Every  arrow  was 
still  in  his  quiver.  But  he  was  not  dispirited.  He 
was  going  to  have  fresh  meat  to  furnish  good  cheer 
for  the  Christmas  dinner. 

Did  not  la  bonne  sainte  Vierge  tell  him  so  when  he 
placed  the  votive  offer  ing  of  Arbutus  upon  her  altar? 
Did  she  not  say  "Sabattis  will  succeed!"  "Sabattis 
will  succeed!" 

The  nigh*  was  intensely  cold,  but  in  a  hastily  con- 
structed and  comfortable  lean-to  before  a  roaring  fire 
on  the  leeward  side  of  a  great  boulder  in  the  ravine, 
and  wrapped  in  his  blanket  and  caribou  skin  and 
fatigued  with  the  exertions  of  the  previous  day,  but 


How  Sabattis  Got  His  Christmas  Dinner.   205 

entirely  confident  of  ultimate  gaccegg,  Sabattis  was 
soon  lost  in  deep  and  restful  sleep. 

With  the  earliest  dawn  he  was  again  upon  the  trail 
when  his  keen  eyes  soon  discovered  a  magnificent 
buck  above  him  on  the  hillside  within  easy  range. 
He  had  just  arisen  from  the  bed  wherein  he  slept  and 
was  in  the  act  of  stretcliing  himself  as  is  their  wont. 

With  the  seeming  speed  and  stillness  of  a  flash  of 
lightning  sped  the  flint-tipped  arrow  of  Sabattis  and 
soon  the  snow  was  crimsoned  with  the  spurting  heart 
blood  of  the  noble  buck.  A  few  wild  bounds  and  to 
earth  he  fell  never  to  rise  again — a  few  convulsive 
twitchings  of  muscles  and  soon  all  was  over. 

'  'La  bonne  sainte  Vierge  tells  true !  La  bonne  sainte 
Vierge  tells  true!"  rang  out  clear  and  joyous  on  the 
morning  air.  The  act  of  dis-emboweling  was  soon  per- 
formed, and  cutting  some  small  beech  sapplings  Sabat- 
tis returned  to  his  camp-fire  where  he  passed  and  re- 
passed them  over  the  coals  to  extract  the  frost  and 
render  them  pliant  and  tough,  and  finally  twisted  them 
into  an  endless  rope  withe  of  sufiicient  length  to  encir^ 
cle  the  antlers  and  pass  over  his  shoulders,  and  so 
harnessed  to  his  quarry  he  turned  his  steps  home- 
ward. 

Strengthened  with  the  strength  born  of  success  and 
cheered  by  the  anticipated  welcome  which  he  knew 
awaited  him  by  the  anxious  ones  at  home,  his  burden 
slipped  lightly  over  the  snow  and  scarcely  impeded 
his  footsteps. 

He  journeyed  on  until  he  had  crossed  the  last  ridge 
of  land  which  divides  the  Wabaquasset  river  from  the 
Sebasticook,  the  shore  of  which  he  reached  soon  after 
mid-day.     Here  he  made  his  camp-fire,  broiled  tid-bits 


806 


Gatherid  Waiflkts. 


of  veniaon,  impaled  upon  a  green  forked  sapling,  over 
the  burning  coals,  and  ate  his  noon-day  meal. 

He  tested  the  ice  npon  the  river,  and  on  the  flat 
water  at  lei'^t  it  was  safe  and  his  heart  was  glad.  He 
could  now  more  easily  and  quickly  travel  two  miles 
than  he  could  one  through  the  woods,  and  the  log  cabin 
and  the  loved  ones  weie  already  <><)veral  miles  nearer. 

He  was  now  hurrying  along  upon  the  ice  which  was 
slightly  covered  with  snow,  and  his  burden  was  much 
lighter.  Ah !  But  what  sound  is  that  ?  A  tremor 
shook  his  sturdy  frame.  A  deathly  pallor  spread 
over  his  bronzed  face.  He  stood  as  if  paralyzed.  Again! 
Ah,  yes !  and  nearer !  The  dreaded  wolves  are  in  full 
pursuit !  It  required  but  a  moment  to  think,  decide, 
and  act ! 

He  would  leave  the  forequarters  to  satisfy  the  raven- 
ous wolves  while  he  escaped  with  the  saddle.  They 
were  soon  cut  asunder  and  shoulderiug  his  burden 
Sabattis  ran  as  Sabattis  never  ran  before.  Fear 
accelerated  his  i^teps  and  hope  spurred  him  on. 

Louder  and  more  fierce  grew  the  howling  of  the 
pack,  and  as  he  cast  a  backward  look  at  a  bend  in  the 
river  a  mile  away,  he  saw  the  angry  wolves  fighting 
and  tearing  each  other  in  their  attempts  to  secure  a 
morsel  of  the  abandoned  meat. 

Lucky  escape  for  which  Sabattis  was  duly  grateful, 
and  he  forgot  not  to  offer  a  prayer  to  the  holy  Virgin 
in  thanksgiving  for  her  good  offices  in  his  behalf. 

Bat  would  the  wolves  be  content  with  their  portion 
and  slink  back  into  the  depth  of  the  forest  when  they 
had  devoured  it  ?  Or  would  they  again  take  up  his 
trail  and  follow  in  pursuit? 

He  well  knew  their  cowardly  nature  when  alone,  but 


How  Sabattis  Qot  Hm  Chmstmas  Dinmu.    207 

what  would  they  not  do  when  gathered  in  a  Ui'tro 
pack  ami  spurred  on  by  hunger  and  the  tante  of 
blood  t 

Beads  of  perHpiration  rolled  down  his  cheeks,  but 
with  renewed  energy  he  increased  his  pace  and  hurried 
on.  The  hideous  howling  of  the  wolves  had  died  away 
in  liie  distance  uml  he  took  new  courage. 

He  must  now  be  miles  away  from  tUem.  Fatigue 
seeme<l  to  overpower  him.  Nature  called  a  halt.  He 
would  rest  for  a  few  minutes. 

He  swung  his  load  from  his  shoulders  and  sat  down 
upon  a  rock  beneath  a  towering  pine  tree  upon  the 
bank  of  the  river,  turning  his  face  in  the  direction  of 
the  enemy. 

He  had  scarcely  sat  down  when,  horror  of  horrors  I 
—  there  in  sneaking,  noiseless  and  swift  pursuit  came 
the  fleet-footed,  blood-thirsty  enemy,  hot  upon  his 
trail !  Scarcely  had  he  time  to  climb  the  tree  beyond 
their  reach  before  it  was  surrounded,  his  saddle  of 
venison  torn  to  shreds  and  devoured — and  the  friendly 
pine  tree  was  his  only  salvation  from  a  similar  fate  I 

Be  the  disappointment  now  what  it  may  Sabattis 
was  too  well  instructed  by  the  Black  gown  to  forget 
to  offer  up  a  fervent  prayer  for  his  merciful  deliver- 
ance; and,  although  he  could  not  see  how,  the  good 
Sttinte  Vierge  would  yet  make  glad  his  Christmas! 

It  was  a  gloomy,  murky  afternoon.  No  ray  of  sun- 
shine gave  added  light  or  warmth.  There  is  no  twi- 
light in  the  woods  in  winter.  Sabattis  will  have  no 
comfortable  lean-to  to-night.  Sabattis  can  build  him 
no  camp-fire  to  give  him  warmth  and  comfort.  Sabat- 
tis must  stay  in  the  tree-top.  How  long  I  Until  help 
comes?    When  will  help  come! 


m 


208 


Oathirid  W*iri,iT». 


Meanwhile  the  air  was  violently  aisailed  by  the 
mofit  hideouH  noises  —  the  snarling,  growling  and  fight- 
ing of  the  wolves  over  a  bone  or  shred  of  meat  which 
bad  escaped  their  fury. 

If  8abba»is  could  i  make  them  destroy  one 
another  1  Sabattis  will  try.  His  bow  was  safely  upon 
his  back  and  his  quiver  had  suffered  the  loss  of  but 
a  single  arrow  since  he  left  home  ui)on  his  self-imposed 

task.  .  . 

Placing  one  foot  upon  a  projecting  limb  and  twinmg 
the  other  leg  around  another  a  little  higher  up  and 
nearly  at  a  right  angle  with  the  first,  be  braced  him- 
self against  the  tree,  took  careful  aim,  and  the  twang 
of  the  string  told  tlie  power  and  speed  it  gave  to  the 
arrow.  An  intense  howl  of  piiin,  clearly  heard  above 
the  general  din,  and  spouting  blood,  told  that  the 
arrow  had  found  its  mark  in  the  heart  of  the  most 
ferocious  dog  wolf  of  the  pack. 

At  the  smell  of  blood  he  was  pounced  upon  and 
torn  limb  from  limb  by  the  others.  In  their  blind 
frenzy  they  attacked  one  another  and  the  woods  eclioe<l 
and  re-echofil  with  the  unearthly  noise. 

The  arrows  of  Sabattis  Hew  thick  and  unerring  until 
to  his  surprise  and  regret  lie  discovero<l  that  but  one 
remained  in  his  quiver ! 

The  ground  was  strewn  with  dead  and  dying  wolves 
and  still  the  carnage  went  on.  The  unusual  excitement 
and  terror  of  the  scene  occupied  all  his  thoughts,  but 
now  as  night  descended  and  the  cold  increased  he 
found  himself  nearly  freezing.  He  ascended  to  the 
thickest  branches  near  the  tree  top  for  greater  protec- 
tion, wrapped  himself  in  his  caribou  akin  and  bound 
himself  to  the  trunk  of  the  tree  by  his  blanket  lest  he 


How  SABiTTia  Got  Hra  CHanTMAR  Diirifra.  800 

be  overcome  by  ileep  «nd  itU  from  hii  Infty  perch 
among  the  devonring  wolvee. 

When  the  moon  arose  it  revealed  dead  and  dying 
wolves  in  all  directions.  Some  of  the  badly  wounded 
were  slowly  dragging  themselves  to  the  cover  of  the 
woods,  while  from  the  few  remaining  came  feebk 
whines  and  moans  as  if  overcome  by  the  dreadful  car- 
nage, satiety,  and  wounds. 

Exhausted  by  fatigue  and  hunger  Sabattis  passed  a 
troubled  night,  and  in  his  dreams  he  lived  over  again 
the  adventures,  excitements,  and  dangers  of  the  day. 
Again  and  again  he  had  met  with  success ;  again  and 
again  did  his  sqi-  -'  and  his  papooses  run  forth  to 
meet  him,  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  chase ;  again 
and  again  did  the  earth  rise  up  beneath  bis  feet  and 
all  became  dark  and  noisome ! 

Day  at  last  dawned  and  arousing  himself  from  his 
troubled  slumbers  he  discovered  that  the  last  wolf 
had  taken  <ts  departure — only  the  sickening  sight  of 
the  blood  stained  snow  and  of  dead  wolves  torn  asun- 
der and  scattered  about,  remained  to  tell  of  his  peril 
and  the  deadly  encounter. 

Carefully  scrutinizing  every  possible  place  that  still 
might  screen  a  lurking  enemy  Sabattis  slowly  de- 
scended from  the  tr'^e.  It  was  the  day  before  Christ- 
mas, lie  mur  be  home  that  night  He  could  not  turn 
back,  lie  had  but  a  single  arrow  in  his  (juiver.  He 
had  no  fresh  meat  Would  la  bonne  sainte  Vierge 
disappoint  ? — oh,  no  1  no !  no !  Did  she  not  say  "Sa- 
battis  will  succeed  1 "    "  Sal  attis  will  succeed ! " 

He  would  get  his  fresh  meat,  his  heart  would  be 
glad,  his  cabin  would  have  good  cheer,  his  Christmas 
would  be  merry. 


210 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


He  hunted  aronnd  amid  the  scene  of  conflict  to  find 
some  of  his  arrows,  but,  alas!  not  a  sonnd  one  did  he 
find — only  the  broken  shafts  of  some,  the  flint  arrow 
heads  gone  from  others,  the  feathers  to  ensure  accu- 
racy of  flight  stripped  and  torn  away  from  others. 

With  a  heart  less  buoyant  than  at  any  time  since  he 
left  home  he  crossed  the  river  to  the  opposite  side 
from  which  the  stragglin^j  wolves  had  taken  their 
departure  and  hastened  on  with  all  speed  until  he 
journeyed  several  miles  away  knowing  that  it  was 
useless  to  look  for  any  game  nearer  to  the  scene  of 
the  conflict  and  uproar  of  the  previous  afternoon  and 
night. 

With  advancing  day  he  became  more  wary  and  cau- 
tious. His  stealthy  step  fell  noiseless  upon  the  fleecy 
snow,  his  keen  eye  sought  out  and  investigated  every 
likely  spot  and  possible  lurking  place  where  the  quarry 
he  sought  might  be  con'-ealed.  All  the  knowledge  and 
skill  of  the  wily  Indian  were  working  at  their  best. 

But  no  game  came  in  range — and  not  even  an  old 
track  was  found  in  the  snow  to  give  encouragement 
Every  hour  brought  him  nearer  to  the  settlement  and 
his  chances  were  rapidly  growing  less  and  less,  but  the 
Virgin's  promise  still  buoyed  him  up,  and  the  goddess 
Hope  still  spurred  him  on. 

He  needed  no  sun  in  the  heavens  to  tell  him  it  was 
past  mid-day  and  that  night  would  soon  be  at  hand. 
He  worked  back  toward  the  top  of  the  divide  where 
he  hoped  he  might  find  some  game  yarded.  He  fol- 
lowed the  crest  of  the  hill  with  all  the  patience  and 
skill  of  tlie  most  ardent  still  huuter — every  sense  keen, 
alert,  tense.  But  no  pleasing  sight  of  game  rewarded 
his  efforts.    His  heart  sank  within  him. 


I   I       f 


How  Sabattis  Got  His  Christmas  Dinner.    211 


Must  lie  go  home  empty-handed  f  The  afternoon 
was  well  spent  and  he  had  now  but  a  few  miles  to  go. 

But  what  a  Christinas  eve  for  the  proud  Sabattis! 
Fate  as  cruel  as  stern  had  deprived  him  of  his  fresh 
meat  and  Christinas  gooil  cheer.  The  day  was  spent 
and  night  was  at  lianil.  Tliere  was  no  use  to  hunt 
longer.     He  would  go  home. 

The  relation  of  his  adventure  will  at  least  tell  the 
tale  of  his  success,  and  his  fortunate  escape  will  break 
the  force  and  dull  the  edge  of  the  cruel,  crushing  dis- 
appointment. With  tired  footsteps  and  a  heavy  heart 
Sabattis  slowly  descended  the  sloping  hillside  and  in 
the  early  twilight  he  was  again  upon  the  ice  of  the 
Sebasticook.  The  ice  along  the  shore  was  safe  but 
occasional  leaches  of  open  water  were  discernible 
where  the  current  was  swift. 

He  hastened  on  —  but  was  it  the  haste  of  despair? 
Sabattis  would  have  saitl  no!  He  will  yet  succeed,  he 
cannot  see  how — but  somewhere — somehow.  "  Sabat- 
tis will  succeed!  "  "  Sabattis  will  succeed !"  kept  ring- 
ing in  his  ears  —  and  to  him  the  promise  was  as  real 
as  life  itself. 

The  twilight  of  eaily  evening  deepened  into  the 
darkness  of  night  and  he  hurried  on. 

The  great  full  moon  rose  resplendent  in  the  east, 
and  the  outlying  cabins  of  the  village  came  into  view. 
Already  the  windows  of  the  little  chapel  are  aglow 
with  light,  as  loving  hands  of  old  and  young  make  it 
more  beautiful  with  a  wealth  of  fragrant  evergreen  as 
a  fitting  decoration  for  the  midnight  Mass  which  is 
soon  to  usher  in  the  feast  of  the  Nativity. 

The  open  channel  in  the  river  swept  in  close  to  the 
shore. 


'I 
f 
1^ 


'i 


212 


Gathered    Waiflets. 


But  hark!  wliat  music  is  that  in  tlio  air?  The  honk- 
ing, honking  of  a  flock  of  wild  geese  on  their  way  to 
their  winter  home  in  soutliern  waters  falls  like  sweet- 
est music  upon  the  ears  of  Sabattis.  He  crouched  low 
in  the  bushes.  Down  pitched  the  flock  into  the  open 
water  for  the  night  within  easy  range. 

They  had  scarcely  alighted  when  the  sharp  twang 
of  his  bow  string  is'  heard  on  the  still  night  air,  and 
there  tumbling  and  floundering  about  are  two  fat  geese 
pinioned  together  by  an  arrow  which  passed  through 
the  neck  of  one  and  was  safely  anchored  in  the  body 
of  the  other. 

Ho  cut  a  long  sapling  with  which  he  brought  them 
within  his  reach  and  soon  there  was  joy  in  the  cabin  of 
Sabattis,  and  fresh  meat  and  good  cheer  for  the  Christ- 
mas dinner.  — vl««a/s  of  Saint  Anthony's  Shrine, 
Worcester,  Mass.,  June,  1901. 


FERN'OLIFFE. 

(founded  ox    FACT.) 


AGAIN  the  groat  Christian  festival  of  the  Nativ- 
ity was  at  liand,  and  Fenicliffe,  the  home  of  the 
Aldgers  for  many  generations,  welcomed  back 
from  one  of  the  leading  female  colleges  of  the  coun- 
try, its  vouiig  mistress,  the  only  daughter  of  the  house- 
lio"lil,  aceomi)anie.l  by  two  of  her  classmates  of  the 
senior  year,  to  sj>end  the  Christmas  holidays. 

The  Aldgers  proudly  traced  their  genealogy  away 


Ferxcliffe. 


2111 


liack  for  CPiiturii's  —  long  ycurs  before  the  laiuling  of 
the  Mayllower  —  and  a  crest  and  coat-of-aniis  earveil 
ill  oak,  now  black  witli  age,  that  adoriieil  the  library, 
was  a  prizi'd  heirUioiii  from  the  distant  past,  wliicli 
prochiinu'd  their  family  distinction  nii(h'r  many  of  the 
(Jatliolic  kings  of  I'lngland  before  Puritanism  was 
known  in  the  worhl,  and  generations  before  the  brutal 
crimes  of  tlie  (k'baucliee,  King  Henry  V'lll.,  gave  birth 
to  mo(h'rn  I'rotestantisni  and  h  light  hi>ting  ilisgrace 
u|)on  tlie  tlirone.  But  during  the  religious  upheaval 
of  the  sixteenth  century  they,  witli  many  others,  were 
roblied  of  their  ancient  birthright,  an<l  had  ever  since 
remaiiu'il  without  the  household  of  the  faith. 

FernclitTe  was  built  in  early  Colonial  clays  upon  a 
gently  slopii'g  eminence  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
with  ample  grounds  surrounding  it,  and  it  was  the 
proud  boast  of  its  owner  that  it  had  never  passed  out 
of  the  family  ownership. 

The  newly  cleared  land  when  first  prepared  for 
settlement,  was  somi  oxergrowii  with  a  riotous  profu- 
sion of  ferns,  from  which  it  took  its  name.  These  had 
long  since  gi\eii  place  to  a  wealth  of  foreign  trees, 
shrubs,  and  rare  exotics;  but  the  original  name  was 
proudly  retained,  and  Fi'riiclitfe  was  now  widely 
known.  For  many  years  tlie  extensixc  Colonial  man- 
sion stood  like  a  solitary  sentinel  upon  the  acclivity, 
but,  keeping  pace  with  the  growth  of  the  country,  the 
town  burst  its  bounds  and  swelled  into  a  populous  city, 
anil  it  was  now  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  modern 
residences,  giving  it  the  appearance  of  a  rare  antique 
in  a  renaissance  setting. 

For  several  generations  the  Ahlgers  had  been 
noted  as  inventors,  manufacturers,  and  successful  busi- 


214 


Gathered    Waiplets. 


ness  men,  anil  their  skill,  business  ability,  and  enter- 
prise brought  them  fame  and  wealth  which  had  been 
multii)lied  manifold  by  their  extensive  real  estate  hold- 
ings from  early  times,  which  had  grovn  immensely  in 
value,  and  now  they  were  classed  with  the  oldest,  most 
distinguisliod  and  wealthy  families  of  the  land.  The 
ancestors  of  the  present  family  came  to  this  country 
ill  early  Puritan  times,  and  they  anti  their  descendants 
were  ever  devotedly  loyal  to  Puritanic  traditions,  pre- 
judices, and  practices.  In  no  one  particular  were  they 
more  so  than  in  their  blind  and  unreasoning  hate  of 
the  religion  which  our  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ,  came 
down  to  earth  in  human  foi-m  to  establish  —  of  every- 
thing savoring  of  Catholic  belief  and  practice. 

Even  with  the  growth  of  toleration  and  a  more  lib- 
eral spirit  around  them  —  despite  the  public  school 
wherein  it  is  boasted  all  touch  elbows  and  learn  nmtual 
toleration  and  respect  —  despite  the  good  lives  and 
deeds  of  their  Catholic  neighbors  —  despite  the  many 
opportunities  olTered  by  sermons,  lectures,  books  and 
periodical  publications  for  correct  information  and 
knowledge  —  tliey  .still  fondly  clung  to  their  early 
prejudices  as  a  priceless  heritage  and  refused  to  un- 
learn the  false  lessons  of  the  past.  The  AMgers  were 
in  this  but  a  type  of  many  of  their  neighbors  and  others 
of  the  ('  scendants  of  the  early  settlers. 

When  the  cruelly  maligned  and  despiseil  Roman 
Catholics  first  settled  in  the  town  they  were  violently 
opposed,  denounced,  and  o.stracized  by  their  Puritan 
and  Pilgrim  neighbors  in  flagrant  opposition  to  the 
teaching  of  the  (iohlen  Rule,  the  highest  test  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  to  which,  while  given  free  rein  to  their 
blind  prejudice  and  unchristian  hate,  they  volubly  and 


Fkrncliffe. 


215 


persistently  proclaimed  that  they  were  devotedly  loyaL 

Such  was  the  home,  and  such  the  environment  of 
the  favored  daughter  of  Femclifle,  now  in  the  early 
flush  of  womanhood— and  yet  with  all  her  untoward 
religious  training  and  surroundings,  possessed  of  every 
lovable  feminine  quality,  among  which  unselfishness 
and  loyalty  to  principle  were  most  prominent 

The  early  Catholic  settlers  brought  with  them 
their  love  for  the  festivals  of  the  church,  and  to  none 
were  they  more  di. .  jted  than  that  commemorating  the 
birth  of  the  Saviour; — but  the  proper  observance  of 
Christmas  during  many  generations  was  vehemently 
opposed  and  condemned  by  Pilgrim  and  Puritan  and 
their  descendants  as  savoring  too  much  of  "popery." 

The  leaven  thus  introduced  by  the  early  Catholic 
settlers  has  leavened  the  whole,  and  now  the  most 
narrow  and  bigoted  of  former  times  enter  with  zest 
into  the  spirit  of  this  joyful  season. 

Following  the  good  old  and  beautiful  custom  of 
the  early  Christian  Church,  which  is  now  so  generally 
practiced,  of  bestowing  love  tokens  upon  friends  and 
alms  upon  the  poor  at  this  season,  and  so  manifesting 
Christian  fellowship  and  bringing  a  ray  of  sunshine 
into  many  desolate  homes,  the  young  ladies  had  been 
very  busy  for  several  days  planning  and  providiug  for 
many  agreeable  surprises  to  the  homes  of  the  poor  and 
needy  throughout  the  city. 

The  day  before  Christmas  was  an  ideal  winter's 
day,  clear  and  crisp,  with  ample  snow  to  make  excel- 
lent sleighing.  Early  in  the  day  the  family  team, 
beautiful  pair  of  dapple  grey  prancing  cobs,  richly 
caparisoned  in  massive  silver-mounted  harness,  and 
elegant  strings  of  bells  extending  around  their  bodies. 


\'9     :\ 


218  Gathbbbd  Waiflkts. 

attached  to  a  RuBsian  sleigh  of  ample  ppoportions, 
weU  laden  with  gifts,  and  its  fair  occupants  well 
wrapped  in  furs,  took  its  departure  from  Femclifle 
upon  its  hallowed  mission,  and.  with  a  short  interval 
for  lunch  at  noontime,  the  day  was  none  too  long  to 
make  the  numerous  calls  which  had  been  planned,  to 
bestow  the  generous  gifts  of  food  and  clothing,  and 
to  speak  words  of  comfort  and  good  cheer  so  much 
needed  and  so  highly  appreciated  in  the  desolate  homes 
TV  liere  they  called. 

The  day  had  passed  and  Christmas  eve  was  weU 
advanced  before  the  last  visit  had  been  made,  the  last 
benefaction  bestowed,  and  the  last  kind  words  spoken. 
Then  homeward  turned  the  fatigued  but  happy  minis- 
tering angels,  delighted  with  the  success  of  their  endeav- 
ors  and  their  many  and  varied  pleasant  experiences. 

Their  nearest  route  home  took  them  through  the 
principal  business  street  of  the  city,  which  was  now 
aglow  with  electric  lights,  and  the  streets  and  side- 
walks  were  filled  with  teams,  and  people  on  foot  laden 
with  bundles,  whose  words  of  hearty  salutation  and 
good  wishes  were  filled  with  the  joyful  spint  of  the 
season.  The  surging  masses  before  the  background 
of  the  extensive  and  attractive  displays  in  the  large 
plate  glass  windows  of  the  stores  seemed  like  a  bright 
picture  of  fairy  land.  ■     •    ^u  *     „.„ 

But,  hark!  what  piercing  cry  of  pam  is  that  now 
heard  above  all  else  i  „,.■.„ 

The  wailing  and  sobbing  of  a  small  boy  m  charge 
of  a  policeman,  on  their  way  to  the  police  station,  is 
as  a  discordant  note,  where  all  else  is  harmony. 

The  hearts  of  the  ladies  are  touched,  and  the  young 
mistress  requests  the  coachman  to  turn  about  and  fol- 


Febncliffe. 


217 


low  them  to  their  destinatioD,  where  all  arrive  simul- 
taneonsly.  The  little  fellow  was  so  thinly  clad  that  he 
was  bennmbed,  and  so  exhausted  by  the  cold  and  grief 
that  for  a  time  he  wag  wholly  unable  to  give  any  ex- 
planation or  account  of  himself.  Restoratives  having 
been  administered,  and  being  made  warm  and  comfort- 
able, he  recovered  sufficiently  to  tell  them,  in  answer 
to  their  questions,  where  he  lived  with  his  mother 
before  she  died — that  his  father  was  killed  in  a  rail- 
way accident  before  he  wa„  old  enough  to  remember 
him — that  he  had  no  relatives — that  his  mother  worked 
very  hard  and  was  sick  a  long  time  before  she  died — 
that  she  often  took  him  with  her  to  Saint  Anthony's 
shrine  to  ask  for  blessings — that  she  told  him  before 
she  died  to  go  to  the  shrine  and  ask  Saint  Anthony  to 
find  a  home  for  him — that  he  was  on  his  way  for  this 
purpose,  but  seeing  so  many  people,  and  attracted  by 
the  sights  in  the  store  windows,  he  lost  his  way  and 
began  to  cry,  when  the  policeman  came  along  and  took 
charge  of  him. 

Momentarily  soothed  by  the  restoratives  and  the 
unusual  kindly  sympathy  and  assurances  of  those  sur- 
rounding him,  his  whole  being  seemed  changed,  as 
though  he  had  entered  a  new  and  better  world;  but, 
anon,  tears  again  welled  up  and  piteous  sobs  escaped 
his  lips,  as  if  on  second  thought  a  picture  of  the  past 
flashed  before  his  mind  and  that  he  read  therein  a 
forecast  of  the  future. 

Being  again  comforted  and  reassured,  his  tears  were 
wiped  away,  and  a  smile  passed  over  his  wan  face, 
plainly  telling  the  thanks  which  his  tongue  could  nut 


'  i 


A  consultation  was  held  when  it  was  decided,  pend- 


218 


Oatrkrbd  Waifletb. 


ing  judicial  invertigation  and  digpodtion  of  his  caie, 
to  send  the  little  feUow  to  the  orphanage  in  charge  of 
the  Bisters  of  Mercy,  which  was  located  within  their 
convent  grounds  not  far  distant,  and  Miss  Aldger 
kindly  volunteered  to  take  him  there  in  her  comfort- 
able sleigh.  Of  course  she  well  knew  the  location  of 
the  convent  and  orphanage,  bu*  nothing  of  the  Sisters 
or  of  their  work  save  only  what  <he  had  learned  from 
the  lips  of  bigotry  and  prejudice,  which  had  taught 
her  that  convents  and  their  inmates  were  to  be  abhorred 
and  shunned;— but  now  yielding  to  the  promptings  of 
humanity  she  was  about  to  cross  a  convent  threshold 
for  the  first  time. 

Carefully  bundling  up  the  little  fellow  in  some  spare 
wraps  and  covering  him  with  the  fur  robes  with  which 
the  sleigh  was  amply  provided,  they  were  soon  within 
sight  of  the  convent,  which  the  little  fellow  gladly 
recognized,  as  here  it  was  he  came  with  his  mother  to 
seek  the  intercession  of  Saint  Anthony  whose  shrine 
was  within  the  enclosure. 

Passing  within  the  outer  gate  he  pointed  out  the 
shrine  on  the  left  and  besought  his  fair  attendant  and 
protector  to  go  with  him  and  pray  for  a  home  at  the 
feet  of  the  Saint  This  appeal,  coming  liks  an  unex- 
pected flash  from  a  clear  sky,  was  too  much  for  Miss 
Frances  and  t  e  drew  back.  She  could  join  heartily 
with  others  in  philanthropic  work,  but  now  to  kneel 
before  a  Catholic  shrine! 

Pulling  her  by  the  hand  and  urging  her  in  a  child- 
like way  to  come  and  kneel  where  his  mother  often  did 
with  him,  she  could  not  longer  resist  the  pleadings  of 
his  heart  so  clearly  and  eloquently  told  in  words  and 
sweetly  mirrored  in  his  upturned,  pleading  face. 


Ferncuffc. 


219 


They  approached  and  knelt  in  the  shrine,  when  a 
thrill  ran  through  her  frame  and  she  quickly  rose  to 
her  feet  as  if  startled  by  an  electric  shock. 

What  bad  happened  f    Who  can  tell  1 

Was  it  only  the  strange  experience  of  going  upon 
her  knees  in  a  Catholic  shrine !  —  or  was  it  an  angelic 
visitation  that  startled  bert 

The  orphan's  petition  having  been  made,  aud  smil- 
ing with  joy  he  again  took  the  hand  of  bis  benefactress 
and  turned  toward  the  convent  door.  Looking  up  into 
ber  face  be  inquired  if  she  had  prayed  for  a  home,  too. 

Being  answered  in  the  negative,  he  insisted  that  she 
return  with  him  to  the  shrine  and  pray  for  a  borne 
also.  She  hesitated,  she  gently  remonstrated,  but  the 
lad  was  importunate,  doubtless  thinking  that  she  was 
homeless  like  himself.  He  told  ber  that  Saint  An- 
thony w.'is  c;oing  to  find  a  home  for  bim  and  he  knew 
be  would  fiu<i  one  for  her  if  she  would  only  ask  bim. 

Whether  to  please  the  child,  or  for  a  higher  motive, 
she  returned  to  the  shrine  where  she  remained  upon 
her  knees  for  ?oni  ■  time,  and  then  both  retumetl  to  the 
convent. 

Oently  ringing  the  bell  the  door  was  opened  by  a 
Sister  to  receive  them.  A  few  words  of  explanation 
and  they  were  invited  into  the  reception  room,  where 
they  were  informed  that  the  Reverend  Mother  would 
soon  attend  them.  It  was  at  the  hour  of  the  evening 
devotions  of  the  Sisters,  ami  as  they  passed  the  open 
door  leading  to  the  chapel  on  t'eir  way  to  the  recep- 
tion room  the  Sister  genuflected,  and  her  example  was 
followed  by  the  others.  The  altar,  ablaze  with  light, 
and  decorated  with  a  wealth  of  evergreens,  flowers, 
and  costly  laces,  the  fragrant  incense,  the  devoutness 


220 


Oatiiebbd   Waiflkth. 


of  the  Sisters,  tlie  HtilliioHH  broken  only  by  the  Unkling 
of  the  bell  at  the  moment  of  benediction— all  conspired 
to  make  such  a  picture  of  aevotion  and  adoration  as 
she  never  drouuieil  had  existence,  and  which  touohwl 
her  profoundly  and  stirred  into  life  a  chord  which  had 
never  before  been  touched.  A  revelation  had  come 
to  her,  imd  already  ii  mountain  of  prejudice  liad  been 
removed. 

A  little  later  she  met  the  Reverend  Mother  m  the 
reception  room  and  explained  the  nature  of  her  call 
and  the  attendant  circumstances. 

Being  assured  that  her  charge  would  be  well  cared 
for  she  took  her  departure  and  was  soon  at  home 
where  the  evening  was  spent  in  narrating  the  experi- 
ences and  adventures  of  the  day.  None  was  more 
thrilling  and  to  none  was  more  attention  given  than 
to  the  story  of  the  orphan  boy  and  the  observations 
and  impressions  of  Miss  Frances  at  the  shrine  of  Saint 
Antliony  and  in  the  convent. 

No  relative  of  tlie  orphan  boy  was  discovered  and 
he  was  given  by  the  Court  into  the  charge  of  the  Saint 
Vincent  de  Paul  Society,  to  wliose  attention  the  case 
had  been  calK-d,  and  thus  was  he  saved  from  a  sentence 
to  one  of  the  institutions  of  tlie  State.  He  was  re- 
turned to  the  convent  orphanage  to  be  cared  for  and 
reared  in  accorilance  with  true  Christian  principles. 
He  was  bright  and  quick  to  learn  and  his  unselfish, 
winning  ways  soon  made  him  a  great  'avorite. 

Before  resuming  her  studies  at  the  end  of  the  holi- 
day season,  Miss  Frances  manifested  her  continued 
interest  in  the  boy  by  calling  several  times  at  the  con- 
vent to  see  him,  and  this  interest  she  continued  by 
oorresi)ondenc("  after  her  return  to  her  college  home. 


Feiincuffe. 


221 


Coinmvncement  day  at  lant  arrived  and  the  vast  con- 
oourse  of  relative!)  and  friendii  of  the  graduating  clasH 
were  an  u  unit  in  Maying  tliat  no  previuuii  valedictorian 
liad  ever  achieved  greater  hucoush  or  won  higher  dis- 
tinction tlian  did  Frances  Aldger  on  this  occasion, 
and  she  wuh  overwhehned  with  congraiulutions  and 
praise. 

Tlie  daily  rouml  of  duties  —  the  hopes,  anxieties 
and  ambitions  of  years  —  liud  culminated  in  happy 
fruition  —  the  interchange  of  class  mementoes  had 
been  made  —  old  friendships  had  been  plightetl  anew  — 
the  last  farewells  had  been  »i)oken  —  the  class  broke 
into  the  units  of  which  it  was  composed  —  and  all  re- 
turneil  to  their  homes  to  enter  upon  some  of  the  broad 
avenues  of  life  through  the  college  door  which  now 
ciosed  behind  them. 

The  return  of  Miss  Aldger  to  Ferncliffe  was  the 
occasion  of  great  festivities  in  her  honor,  and  her 
accomplishments,  beauty,  and  lovable  qualities,  joined 
with  the  many  advantages  which  wealth  and  social  dis- 
tinction give,  made  her  a  popular  favorite  and  brought 
her  admirers  and  suitors  from  some  of  the  most  promi- 
nent and  distinguislied  families  of  the  country. 

Hhe  made  frecjuent  visits  to  the  convent  to  inquire 
after  the  welfare  of  the  little  fellow  whom  she,  in  a 
measure,  regardetl  as  her  ward.  Slie  was  much  inter- 
ested in  the  Sisters  and  all  she  saw  of  their  daily  life. 
Their  simplicity,  their  happiness,  their  daily  round  of 
duties  so  cheerfully  unilertaken  and  performed  without 
ostentation  or  display,  and  particularly  their  ])hilan- 
thropy,  matle  a  deep  anil  lasting  impression  upon  her, 
and  the  false  lessons  so  industriously  taught  her  in 
earlier  years  and  the  prejudices  so  tho-iuKhly  instilled 


222 


Oathimd  WAirLin. 


melted  rapidly  away.  The  light  of  faith  dawned,  oon- 
viotion  followed,  and  soon  after  she  announoed  to  her 
imrentK  her  conversion  to  the  one  true  faith  — the 
r'>ligion  of  her  ancestors. 

They  met  her  avowal  with  violent,  frensied  opposi- 
tion, and  with  greater  vehemence  than  ever  denounced 
the  doctrines  and  practices  of  the  church  of  which  they 
knew  nothing  save  the  caricatures  whidi  a  morbid 
Puritanism  had  invented  and  propagated.  These 
proved  unavailing  and  an  extended  trip  abroad  was 
as  fruitlessly  proposed;  her  position  in  society  and 
the  greater  triumphs  and  distinction  which  would 
surely  be  hers  were  urged  without  effect;  the  dishonor 
she  would  bring  upon  the  family  name,  which  had  been 
so  proudly  borne  for  generations,  had  no  influence  or 
weight;  and  finally  the  threat  that  she  would  be  dii- 
owned  and  disinherited  weakened  not  her  decision. 

Her  sensitive  nature  recoiled  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  the  pain  which  she  knew  her  loyalty  to  the  dic- 
tates of  her  conscience  would  cause  her  parents,  and 
with  every  resource  that  she  could  command  she 
sought  to  reason  with  them;  to  prove  the  divine  insti- 
tution of  the  Church  to  which  all  were  commanded  to 
listen,  or  be  considered  as  the  heathen  and  the  publi- 
can; its  holiness,  unity,  beauty,  and  unbroken  contin- 
uity since  tlie  days  of  its  Founder  upon  earth ;  but  to 
all  they  turne<i  a  deaf  ear  and  refused  to  listen. 

She  was  received  into  the  Church  on  the  second 
anniversary  of  her  first  call  at  the  convent,  when  she 
and  her  orphan  ward  received  their  first  communion 

togetlier. 

Her  entrance  into  the  one  true  fold  stirred  society 
to  its  very  depths ;  she  was  sent  as  an  outcast  from  the 


FntKCLIITK 


SS8 


parental  roof  and  diiinherited.  After  matnre  delihe^ 
atioD  and  prayerfnl  coniideration  she  entered  the 
novitiate,  and  in  dne  time  renounced  the  world  and 
all  its  allarementa,  was  professed,  and  assame<l  the 
black  habit  of  a  Sister  of  Mercy. 

Neither  time,  the  great  alleviator,  nor  her  conntless 
appeals  to  the  throne  of  grace  brought  balm  to  Fern- 
cliffe.  Years  had  come  and  gone  since  the  beautiful 
and  brilliant  daughter  had  exchanged  the  luxuries 
and  attractions  of  the  world  for  a  secluded  convent 
home  and  the  austerities  of  a  religious  life.  On  her 
departure  from  the  home  of  her  birth,  childhood,  and 
youth,  everything  suggestive  of  her  presence  there 
had  been  removed,  and  for  years  her  name  had  not 
been  spoken  within  its  walls.  Disowned  and  disin- 
herded,  she  was  no  more  to  her  parents  than  if  she 
hao  never  been — a  sacritice  to  their  cruel  i)igotry  and 
unreasoning  hate  and  a  striking  exemplification  of 
their  practice  of  the  Golden  Rule. 

Meanwhile  the  lad  had  reached  the  years  of  early 
boyhood  when  a  distinguished  and  very  wealthy  busi- 
ness man  from  a  neighboring  state,  accompanied  by 
his  wife,  w  'lile  on  their  summer  vacation,  made  a  tran- 
sient visit  at  the  convent  They  were  much  interested 
in  parochial  schools  and  they  were  invited  in  to 
inspect  the  orphans'  school,  where  they  were  enter- 
tained by  an  exhibition  of  the  ability  of  the  children 
and  a  short  programme  of  literary  exercises  and  music. 

Because  of  his  attainments  and  manliness,  and  be- 
cause he  recalled  their  only  child  of  about  the  same 
age,  whom  the  grim  reaper  had  claimed  a  few  years 
before,  they  became  much  interested  in  the  orphan 
boy  of  whom  we  write. 


224 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


Soon  after  their  return  to  their  home  they  made 
application  to  adopt  him,  and  being  in  every  way 
worthy  and  able  to  give  him  every  advantage  he  was 
surrendered  into  their  charge  and  legaUy  adopted. 
In  his  new  home  he  was  given  every  opportunity  for 
advancement  which  he  improved.  After  completing 
his  college  course  and  winning  highest  honors  he 
entered  the  seminary  and  has  since  become  a  distin- 
guished priest. 

Mindful  of  his  own  early  years  he  has  founded  and 
maintains  an  orphanage  with  funds  bountifully  sup- 
plied by  his  foster-parents,  where  homeless  orphans 
and  wandering  waifs  find  a  good  home,  and  where  they 
are  fitted  and  adequately  equipped  to  take  their  place 
and  do  successful  warfare  in  the  battle  of  life. 

Years  had  come  and  gone  and  now  the  master  and 
mistress  of  Femclifle  were  nearing  the  evening  of  life. 
Taking  their  accustomed  sleigh-ride  one  delightful 
winter's  day,  the  eighteenth  anniversary  of  the  distri- 
bution of  the  gifts  by  the  young  ladies,  the  spirited 
horses  took  fright  and  dashed  madly  away.  They 
were  soon  beyond  the  control  of  the  coachman,  and 
suddenly  turning  a  comer  in  their  wild  flight,  the 
sleigh  was  overturned  and  the  occupants  thrown  vio- 
lently against  the  curb-stone  and  dragged  some  dis- 
tance before  becoming  released  from  the  robes  and 
sleigh. 

Willing  hands  came  quickly  to  their  rescue  and  ten- 
deriy  carried  their  seemingly  lifeless  forms  into  the 
nearest  house.  Ambuknces  were  summoned  and  a 
hasty  run  was  made  to  the  hospital,  which  was  reached 
before  they  regained  consciousness.  Being  among  the 
most  distinguished  families  and  weU  known  they  were 


Ferncliffe. 


225 


recognized  and  everything  possible  was  done  to  res^  '^"'i 
consciousness  and  relieve  their  Bufferings. 

After  receiving  medical  and  surgical  treatm  it  -hey 
were  placed  in  private  apartments,  their  won  jd;i  and 
physical  condition  not  permitting  their  removal  ii> 
their  home. 

The  Sisters  of  Mercy  were  in  attendance  at  the  hos- 
pital and  where  tlie  case  was  most  urgent  and  their 
services  most  needed,  there  they  were  unremitting  in 
their  kindly  ministrations.  I5eing  summoned  to  the 
bedside  of  the  latest  arrivals,  where  the  victims  lay 
hovering  between  life  and  death,  we  leave  the  reader 
to  imagine  the  meeting  between  the  daughter  and  lier 
unconscious  father  whom  she  had  not  seen  before  for 
so  many  years. 

She  was  so  nearly  overcome,  and  her  embarrassment 
was  so  apparent,  that  she  was  removed  from  his  pres- 
ence when  she  communicated  her  discovery  to  the 
physicians  and  her  companions.  She  was  informed 
that  her  mother  was  in  an  adjoining  room,  and  although 
not  so  severely  injured  as  was  her  father,  she  was 
positively  refused  admission  to  her  presence  lest  the 
excitement  of  the  meeting  should  prove  injurious. 
The  anguish  of  the  enforced  separation  of  ministering 
daugh*^?  from  her  suffering  mother  can  be  more  easily 
imagined  than  described. 

Their  injuries  proved  more  serious  tlian  at  first  sup- 
posed, and,  being  somewhat  advanced  in  years,  their 
recovery  was  very  slow.  The  sisters  were  in  constant 
attendance,  but  none  was  more  untiring  and  devoted 
than  the  hitherto  much-despised  one — the  disowned 
a.id  outcast  one  of  their  own  ilesh  and  blood. 

Sucii  unselfish,  kindly  ministrations  appealed  more 


ll 


226  GaTHBBBD  WAITLKTa 

Btrongly  to  them  than  sennons  or  volumes  of  learned 
disquisition  and  argument.  Mountains  of  prejudice 
and  hate  were  removed  during  their  convalescence, 
and  admiration  and  love  took  their  place. 

The  first  caU  that  they  made  after  returning  to  Fem- 
cMe  from  the  hospital  was  at  the  convent,  where  they 
found  their  daughter  contented  and  happy,  doing  the 
work  of  Him  who  said, "  Inasmuch  as  you  have  done  it 
unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  you  have  done  it  unto 

Me."  ,    ,    L 

Soon  after,  when  duly  instructed,  they  had  the  great 
happiness  to  be  received  into  the  Church  on  the  anni- 
versary of  their  daughter's  reception  into  the  Order 
of  Mercy,  and  their  kst  days  were  flUed  with  that 
peace  and  happiness  which  surpasseth  understanding 
and  which  are  known  in  their  fullness  only  by  those  of 
the  household  of  the  true  faith. 

As  an  act  of  thanksgiving  and  reparation  they  be- 
queathed their  home  and  extensive  grounds  for  a  site 
for  a  convent  and  an  orphans'  home  and  an  industrial 
school  and  liberally  endowed  aU.  The  convent  they 
desired  should  be  known  as  St.  Francis'  Convent  of 
Mercy  to  commemorate  the  name  of  their  daughter. 

The  extensive  and  weU-equipped  orphans'  home  and 
industrial  school  are  happily  fulflUing  the  mission 
planned  for  them— providing  a  good  home  for  or- 
phans, giving  them  a  Christian  education,  teaching 
them  a  useful  trade,  and  so  saving  unnumbered  thou- 
sands to  God  and  country. 

The  home  and  school  justly  bear  the  name  of  him 
who,  actuated  by  highest  Christian  charity  and  philan- 
thropy, so  munificently  endowed  them,  and  thus  they 
will  transmit  to  coming  generations  the  story  of  Fern- 


Fekncliffe. 


227 


cliflfe  mill   the  ii;i!ii('  of  its   foimilcr  timl   subsequent 
owners. 

An<l  so  wpi'o  iinsweivd  tlie  prayers  of  the  orphan  and 
his  fair  proti'j;e  to  Saint  Anthony,  tlirough  whose 
intercession  doubtless  a  home  was  not  only  found  for 
them  but  also  for  countless  others,  ^.liiimis  of  Saint 
Anthony'f!  Slnhtc,  Wiiirt:st<;r,  Mass.,  June,  1902. 


A  PILGRIMAdE  TO  UUE  F.AUY  OF  LOUEDES 
AT  XAZARETII  IX  LEICESTER. 


THE  seasons  come  and  f!;o,  and  Time  is  ever  beside 
the  death-bed  of  the  past  and  at  the  birth  of  the 
present.  In  the  natural  order  bleak  and  barren 
winter  gives  way  to  the  new  awakening  and  seed  time 
of  Spring  with  bud  and  blossom  and  springing  blade 
—  when  the  landscape  is  adorned  with  a  wealth  of 
flowers  and  fragrance  —  that  touching  token  of  the 
Creator's  bounty  — 

"for  the  flower 
Is  a  pure  growth  of  heavenly  love,  a  thing 
Unblamed  bv  Him  who  made  it." 


Seed-time  hastens  on  and  mid-smnmer,  the  summit 
of  the  year,  crowns  the  work  of  the  husbandman  with 
richest  fruitage. 

As  tlie  supernatural  includes  the  natural,  as  the 
greater  includes  the  lesser,  it  requires  no  deep  erudi- 
tion to  discover  the   striking  analogy  which   exists 


228 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


between  them.  The  dark  and  unproductive  ante- 
Christian  winter  of  might  and  liate,  when  was  exacted 
"an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth,"  gave  way 
before  the  fructifying  wai-mth  — ■  :unshine  of  the 
Redeemer,  an.l  make  fruitful  the  sterile  sod  of  he 
passions  and  wickedness  of  men,  an.l  who.  His  earthly 
mission  ended,  ascended  to  the  throne  of  His  Father 
in  the  fullness  of  tl  e  harvest.  ,  .  ,.  „ 

The  clm-ch  which  He  foun.led,  and  with  which  He 
remains  to  guide  ami  direct,  w!-ly  sets  apart  stated 
times  and  seasons  throughout  tlie  year  to  commemo- 
rate the  transcendant  work  of  man's  redemption  and 
to  stimulate  anew  his  gratitude  and  praise. 

The  Catholic  church,  unlike  the  sects,  exalts  and 
honors  the  heroes  and  heroines  whom  God  exalts  and 
honors  -  those  holy  ones  who  found  favor  in  His  sight 
and  were  the  chosen  instruments  of  His  will.  To  none 
is  greater  dignitv  an.l  honor  accorded  than  to  her  who 
was  found  worthv  to  be  salute.l  by  the  heavenly  mes- 
senger with  "Hail!  full  of  grace,"  and  who  was  so 
closely  linkcl  with  her  Divine  Son  in  the  work  of  His 
earthlv  mission. 

Bone  of  her  bone -flesh  of  her  flesh  -  mother  and 
son -mother  an.l  her  Creator -mother  and  her  God 
_  so  associated  on  earth  it  is  fitting  to  share  the  pious 
belief,  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  the  earliest 
ages  of  Christianity,  that  they  are  again  united  in  the 
highest  heavens.  The  union  of  her  body  after  death 
with  h(  r  soul  in  heaven  is  known  to  those  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith  as  the  Assumption. 

This  feast  is  celebrated  on  August  15th -the  sum- 
mit of  the  fruitage  season  in  the  natural  order  -  and  it 
may  very  properly  be  called  the  summit  and  oomple- 


A    PlUJHIMAGE   TO   OlR   LaDY   OF   LoLUDES.         2"J9 


tion  of  tlio  work  oF  Rwlemption  of  iiiarikiml  in  the 
supernatural  order. 

From  the  earliest  days  of  Christianity,  particularly 
(luring  the  ages  of  faith,  the  feast  of  the  Assumption 
was  celebrated  with  all  the  grandeur  and  ceremonial  of 
the  Roman  ritual,  a  beautiful  custom  which  still  sur- 
vives in  Catholic  countries.  But  in  this  new  country, 
as  it  were  of  yestenlay,  wliere  the  church  has  encoun- 
tered so  many  obstacles,  and  where  the  spirit  of  com- 
mercialism dominates,  tbis  ami  other  feasts  of  the 
church  have  beej  shorn  of  much  of  their  splendor, 
significance  and  value. 

For  the  tiist  time  in  the  history  of  this  city,  the  last 
anniversaiy  of  the  feast,  August  10,  1902,  was  cele- 
brated by  a  pilgrimage  to  the  Nazareth  Convent  of 
Mercy  in  the  adjoining  town  of  Leicester,  where  the 
(lay  was  fittingly  if  not  as  gloriously  spent  as  in  more 
favored  places. 

From  early  morning  until  9  o'clock,  the  hour  fi.\ed 
for  assembling,  pilgrims  gathered  from  all  parts  of 
the  city  and  surrounding  country  at  tlie  junction  of 
Manville  and  Main  streets  near  St.  Joseph's  church  in 
Leicester,  when  careful  estimates  placed  their  number 
at  three  thousand.  They  came  from  every  walk  and 
condition  in  life,  old  and  young,  male  and  female, 
teacher  and  pupil,  emiiloyer  and  workman,  cultivated 
and  unlettered  —  anil  all  thoughtful  and  earnest. 

The  day  was  most  projjitious,  a  balmy  sun  and  a 
cloudless  sky  contributing  to  the  success  of  the  pil- 
grimage and  pi  asures  of  the  pilgrims.  The  route  of 
tiie  jM'ocession  was  through  Mauville  street  to  the 
Home,  thence  over  newly  mown  grass-land  to  the 
shrine  in  the  grotto. 


230  Gathered  Waiflets. 

Banners,  bannerettes,  wreaths  of  laurel,  and  other 
appropriate  decorations  along  the  route,  added  to  the 
pieturesqueness  and  effectiveness  of  the  scene. 

The  pilgrimage  was  duly  formed  under  the  super- 
^-ision  and  management  of  men  of  experience  of  Saint 
Paul's  parish,  rnd  at  9:15  o'clock  it  moved  m  the  fol- 
lowing order :  ,        .  ,  i  f„„™ 

Cross  bearer,  clergy  from  several  panohes  and  from 
the  College  of  the  Holy  Cross,  delegates  from  the 
Sisters  of  Mercy,  Sisters  of  Providence,  the  Eosary 
Soeietv.  5acre.l  Heart  Sodality,  Cldldren  of  Mary, 
fifteen  giris  dressed  to  represent  the  fifteen  mysteries 
of  the  he-  rosary,  nine  giris  to  represent  the  nine 
choirs  of  angels,  all  of  St.  Paul's  parish,  followed  by 
the  unattached  pilgrims  in  military  file. 

When  the  pilgrimage  started  for  its  destination, 
Ivev.  WiUian.  11.  (Joggin,  pastor  of  St.  Paul's  church, 
began  the  recitation  of  tiie  rosaiy,  that  wonderful  epi- 
tome of  t)ie  birth,  life,  death,  resurrection  and  ascen- 
sion of  the  God-man,  from  the  Annunciation  to  the 
Ascension -His  endre  life  and  life-work  upon  earth 
_  recalling  and  meditating  upon  its  joys,  its  sorrows, 

and  its  glories.  ,i   i  „„ 

The  volume  of  devotional  response  which  welled  up 
and  was  poured  forth  upon  the  morning  air  from  three 
thousand  voices  seemed  like  the  melody  of  a  powerful 
or-au  in  a  vast  cathedral,  or  as  the  swelling  notes  of 
the  oncoming  sea  as  the  billowy  waves  surge  and  die 
away. 

"And  to  hear  the  grateful  song 
Of  the  gentle  pilgrim  throng,— 
The  old  angelic  greeting  given 
To  the  \irgin  Queen  of  Heaven, 


A   FiLGRIltAOE    TO    Ol  <t  LaDY   OF  Loi'RDES.    231 


wag  Boul-stirring  and  uplifting,  and  it  made  a  lasting 
impression  upon  all  whose  good  fortune  it  was  to  par- 
ticipate in  the  exercises. 

Arrived  at  the  grotto,  a  beautiful  sight  greeted  the 
vision.  Here  Nature  in  her  play  of  power  has  fash- 
ioned such  a  dell  as  painters  dream  of,  and  as  poets 
and  romancists  teU  us  are  fitting  abodes  for  the  shrines 
of  the  just — the  holy  ones  of  God.  Nature's  handicraft 
has  been  supplemented  and  beautified  by  human  aid, 
and  now,  embowered  in  trees  and  overgrown  with  ivy, 
a  rustic  stone  arch  shelters  the  statue  of  our  Lady  of 
Lourdes,  with  Bemadette  kneeling  before  her,  and 
feathered  songsters  carol  in  the  overhanging  branches 
and  wild  flowers  adorn  the  landscape  at  her  feet 

"This  statue  and  niche  are  the  gift  of  one  who  has 
implicit  confidence  in  our  Lady's  powerful  interces- 
sion," but  who  conceals  his  name,  only  allowing  the 
gift  to  be  known  by  the  above  words,  which  are  in- 
scribed on  a  brass  plate  at  our  Lady's  feet. 

The  altar  was  erected  directly  in  front  of  the  niche, 
and  it  was  embowered  in  the  dense  foliage  and  massive 
branches  of  overhanging  trees — and  cut  flowers,  potted 
plants,  and  flickering  tapers  gave  an  added  charm  to 
the  grandeur  and  solemnity  of  the  scene. 

Here  the  holy  sacrifice  of  the  Mass  was  offered,  the 
clean  oblation  to  the  Most  High,  and  this  together 
with  the  reception  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament  by  a  num- 
ber of  communicants,  and  the  recollection  and  devotion 
of  the  thousands  of  worshipping  pilgrims,  was  most 
impressive  and  edifying. 

The  Mass  was  celebrated  by  Rev.  Jeremiah  J.  Pren- 
dergast,  S.  J.,  of  the  College  of  the  Holy  Cross,  assisted 
by  Rev.   WiUiam   IL   Goggin,  Rector  of  St.  Paul's 


(1 


I.  'if 


232  Gathered  Waiflets. 

church,  and  Rev.  John  F.  Redican,  Rector  of  St 
Joseph's  church,  and  John  Cooney  and  Joseph  Sweeney 
of  the  latter  church  were  the  Acolytes. 

Rev  Bernard  S.  Conaty,  Rector  of  the  church  of  the 
Sacred  Heart,  preached  a  touching  sermon,  taking  as 
his  dominant  thought  the  glories  of  Mary,  crowned  by 
her  Assumption,  and  the  lesson  of  the  pilgrimage  and 

l^fl  10VS 

The  music  of  the  Mass  was  rendered  by  the  choir  of 
St   Paul's  church  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Daniel 
Downey,  assisted  by  Mr.  Joseph  Rogers  of  Rochdale, 
upon  the  violin.     In  addition  to  the  music  of  the  Mass 
"Ave  Maria"  was  sung  at  the  oflertory  by  Mrs.  Daniel 
Downey  and  Mrs.  Mary  E.  O'Hara;  "On  This  Day.  O 
Beautiful  Mother"  and  "Mother  Dear,  O  Pray  For 
Me"  by  the  full  choir,  with  organ  and  violin  accom- 
paniment by  Mr.  E.  F.  Howe,  organist  of  St  Pauls 
church,   and   Mr.   Rogers;    and  at   the   communion 
"L' Adagio"  was  rendered  by  Mr.  Rogers  on  the  vio- 
lin, accompanied  by  Mr.  Howe  upon  the  organ. 

Father  Prendergast  officiated  at  the  solemn  bene- 
diction  of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  which  followed  the 
celebration  of  the  Mass,  when  "O  Salutaris"  was  sung 
by  Mrs.  Rupert  H.  Murray,  and  the  "Tantum  Ergo 
bv  the  fuU  choir,  accompanied  by  organ  and  violin, 
with  Mrs.  O'Hara  as  soloist.  After  the  benediction 
the  procession  was  again  formed  and  with  befitting 
solemnity  the  Blessed  Sacrament  was  borne  under  a 
rich  canopy  to  the  chapel  in  the  Home  and  deposited 
in  the  tabernacle,  the  choir  singing  Holy  God,  We 
Praise  Thy  Name."  . 

Thus  came  to  a  close  the  formal  devotional  exercises 
of  the  pilgrimage,  but  many  who  came  supplied  with  a 


A   PlLORIKAOK    TO  OoR   LaDT   OF   LoDRDBS.     2S3 

basket  Innch  spent  the  balance  of  the  day  abont  the 
spacions  gronnds  in  social  reunion  and  qniet  pleasare — 
in  renewed  visits  to  the  shrine  and  chapel — woU  con- 
tent with  the  day  so  happily  and  profitably  spent,  and 
rejoicing  that  it  was  their  good  fortune  to  pprtinipate 
in  and  share  the  blessings  of  the  first  pilgrimage  to 
Our  Lady  of  Lourdes  at  Nazareth. — Annalt  of  Saint 
Anthony's  Shrine,  June,  1903. 


THE  PRINTED  WORD. 


44  y^  O  TEACH."    No  command  of  the  God-man 

\j  is  more  lucid  or  emphatia  He,  tht  eternal 
Wisdom  clothed  in  human  form,  came 
down  to  earth  to  teach  lessons  of  profoundest  wisdom. 
He  sanctified  to  this  use  all  the  then  known  means  for 
imparting  information  that  would  increase  knowledge 
and  lead  up  to  highest  wisdom. 

He  taught  by  miracles,  by  example,  by  precept,  by 
parables,  by  deeds.  When  about  to  return  to  His 
throne  in  the  highest  heavens,  He,  in  the  plentitude 
of  his  divinity  and  power,  elevated  His  apostles  and 
their  successors  to  the  greatest  dignity  upon  earth, 
and  clothed  them  with  the  infallibility  of  the  God- 
head:— "The  Father  and  I  are  one"— "All  power  is 
given  Me" — "As  the  Father  hath  sent  Me  I  also  send 


984 


Gathkrkd  Waiflbts. 


yo„-._"Go  teach  whatsoever  I  have  commanded  yon; 
and  behold  I  am  with  you  aU  days  even  to  the  con- 
summation of  the  world." 

No  limitations  here  as  to  the  plentitude  of  power, 
no  restrictions  as  to  time  or  place  or  the  means  to  be 
employed  to  fulflU  the  Divine  command. 

During  the  years  of  the  God-man  on  eartli,  and  for 
centuries  thereafter,  the  oral  was  practically  the  only 
metho<l,  asi.le  from  miracles,  for  propaRating  Ills  gos- 
pel and  teachings;  but  in  the  fullness  of  time,  and  in 
obedience  to  tlie  command  Hod  gave  to  man  at  the 
time  of  his  creation  to  go  forth  into  tlie  world  and 
subdue  it,  as  recorded  in  the  first  chapter  if  (J.  aesis, 
the  printing  press  was  bom— that  mighty  engine  of 
education  and  civili/Jition— that  subtle  influence  that 
transmutes  and  disseminates  to  the  ends  of  the  earth- 
that  irresistible  power  tiiat  has  uprooted  and  over- 
thrown kingdoms  and  dynasties— that  angel  of  good 
or  demon  of  evil.  . 

While  the  perpetuity  of  God's  kingdom  on  earth  is 
assured  by  God  himself,  He  desires— nay  commands- 
the  cooperation  of  human  agencies  to  aid  in  its  e.xten- 
gion  and  transmission  to  coming  ages,  and  for  the 
faithful  performance  of  this,  as  of  other  commands. 
He  will  exact  a  strict  accounting. 

The  printing  press  and  the  printed  word  as  we  now 
have  them,  were  unknown  in  the  time  of  the  Master, 
and  therefore  not  sanctified  by  His  express  endorse- 
ment and  use,  but  who  shall  say  that  the  printed  word 
of  a  later  time  is  not  equally  sanctioned  with  the  oral 
of  an  earlier  age  2  and  that  both  are  not  equaUy  blessed 
and  made  effectual  to  regenerate,  to  uplift,  to  extend 
and  transmit  the  blessings  of  Christianity  and  civiliza- 


TlIK     I'ldNTKII     W'llllll. 


tioii  tliniiiKliiiul  till'  liiKliwiiys  iiii>l  liyways  dI'  life,  to 
the  most  ('rilij,'lilciii'il  lis  wfll  as  li>  nations  iHiricil  in 
IIm' il.-iikni'ss  III'  iiloliitry  ami  patfaiii""' ? 

Without  iloinK  violence  to  any  it  may  ln'  saiil  that 
all  inankiiiii  are  iliviileil  into  iwo  classes  —  those  of  the 
honsehiihl  of  the  faith  ami  those  withont  -  yet  all  are 
the  chilili'en  of  a  loininon  H'atlier,  ami  all  ale  I'leated 
for  the  same  eternal  ile-tiny. 

Those  within  the  foM  hear  the  voice  of  the  Shep 
heril,  hilt  who  hriiiKs  the  iflail  tiilin^s  ami  lireaks  lln' 
lireail  of  life  to  those  without  .'  And  yet  the  Shepher.l 
of  souls  commamleil  the  seekini;  out  ami  recovi'ry  of 
the  strayiuij  ami  lost  sheep,  ami  told  of  the  Joy  in 
heaven  over  the  sinner  who  repents.  May  we  not  then 
with  Jiropriefy  say  that  a  wise  and  merciful  flod  has 
ordained  and  hh'ssed  hoth  the  oral  and  written  word  - 
the  one  to  (|iiickeii  the  faith   and  arouse  the  zeal   of 

those  within  the  fold  who  hi'iir  the  voii f  the  Shep 

herd,  and  the  other  that  Roes  Into  the  .lesert  |ih s  of 

life  to  hriiif;'  the  knowledge  of  fiod  and  the  hlessiufrs 
of  Mis  (Jospe!  to  untold  millions  of  errin4r  and  stray 
ins  ones  who  would  never  seek  either  within  the  sheep 
fold; 

It  is  painfully  e\  ideiit  that  the  dates  of  Hell  -  -  the 


power> 


if  darkne 


ire  fullv  aw 


aketoti 


leir  opporfu 


nity,  and  oh!  with  what  sad  and  teriilile  i-esuK^!  \, 
the  hands  of  the  enemy  the  iirintim;-  jiress  is  m.ide  to 
continue  unceasiui;,  unrelentiiii;  warfare  upon  the  liijht 
set  upon  *he  nionatain  —  the  sheeii-fohl  of  Christ — and 
too  often,  alas!  too  often  has  he  succeeded  ill  diiiiiuiiis;- 


the  lifrlit,  ill  niakinf?  serious  inroails  :nto  tl 


le  slice) 


fold 


ami  working'  terrilile  liiivoc  therein  -  -  in  iiiakiim'  liroad 
the  (lathway  that  leads  to  destruction  and  e\crla-1im; 


li 


]9  OATlIF.Br.nWMKl.ITS,  ......      jj, 

.,,tttli-wl,il..  I.lii..«it'«  tl'-  l"'«»"  ^^"•'''  '"""  ''"'■'""' 

"'"''go.!  in  th..  fl..sli  f..ivt..M  tl,..  ov.Ms.,wiiiK  ..f  tli.v 
wheat  flel.l  with  oockh.  whih'  th..  s-ivmits  .h-|.  .  ..f  tho 
„Ltoac.h..rsan.lf..l.M.-nH,..is.l,at.h..at..r.h 
would  brinK  forth,  of  th.ir  ahility  an.    s„l,th.t:.=  h 

w„  soarch   th..  s..ri,..iin.s   in   vain   .„   Mn,l   «h..  v    .  . 
com,iion.l...l  tho  sh,thrul.  n..«h...ttul  s..,vants  1...  I.Mn  , 

ash..,. "»''  i"'""i»i"«  ""•  ^"^^'"« ':',":  '"Tl  , 

h..ir  iM.liff..n.n.-..  in  His  s.-vi....  whioh  iiinish...  an 
Ly  opiMiiiiK  for  th-  onshm«h,  of  th..  la  ...  tw.ch..rs 
nnd^alsc  piva..l,..is  ..f  tl,..  ..n..iny  wi.i.  wh.,in  h..    m 

,,„.,..  toh.iati..n  ..1-  tn......     Uir.l  on  th..  aim...  a,      M 

L  goo.1  fiRht,  Ha...s..  an.l  us,-  th..  most  .  ,.c  n, 
weapons.  l>.M>..tw..«iy  in  w,.l!,h.ini:,th..s,..,n,l.h..l,K.. 

are  the  comman.ls  of  Ilin,  wh,-  ....nnnan.ls. 

With  th..  printing  pn'ss  «l,at  hnn.an  a«,.n..y  ,s 
compnr,.hh.  to  ..ffici,.nc.y  an,l  po« .r .'  An,  what  ,n..ans 
have  tho  eockle  sow..rs  -  th..  p..«v.s  ot  ,h.ikn..ss- 
made  nne  of  with  «.-at..r  sn..,.,.ss  t,.  p,.ison  an.l  .h - 
Ttrov!  A...1  will  His  sh-thfal  s,.vvants  sl....p  ,.n  an. 
vield  up  with.nit  contest  ..r  r..n,..nst ran....  this  nn,'h> 

'„p„e  ..f  unm..asur...l   P,.w,.v  t,.  tl n,.,ay  t,.  inak.. 

successful  warfar..  up.,n  th..  ,lo,.tiin-  ot  th..  K...l....n,... 

(vf  inaukin.i;  „..,„i. 

The  print...l    w.-nl!      What   a    l-t'-'.v    '"«■"■ 
Wh«tatir..l..ssan.l.h.atUl,.ss,„i-^,onai-y!    \\at,.,l.M 
war.l,  ever  onwanl.  its  M,issi„n.  aalik..  tl,..  ntt..r..,l  w.o.l. 

never  halts,  n..v..r  ..n.ls! 

Th,.  print...l  w..r.l  is  th,.  s„al  tu.l, .pm,.,,,,  an. 

„,,U,ion   sways  the  worhl.      .M, !   hnt   tl„.  ..are   a,.. ■ 

in  the  sowia^   that  th,.  l,ai'v,.st    Iw   th..   palla.lnna  .,1 
lleav.'ii! 


'rilK     I'lllSIKII     WiMlh. 


Till'  piiliti'il  Wdi'.l  lilrsscil  fnnii  oil  liitfli  i^  II  wliitr 
wiiiK''<l  rviiintfl  <if  liitlil  tliiit  illiimini's  tlio  (mtliwav  o( 
till'  iTi-iiiit  iiiic-  >tr,iii(lcil  in  till'  cliiikMiiiic  I'i'iM  III'  iuiiM 
nilll'c  mill  >ill,  IIIkI  «llhli's  tlli'lll  U<  llir  Slltrs  of  till'  Dili' 

Ki-ciit    Christ  iinliiiiii'.l    s| p  fiilil,    nil    aiinsti)lii'    iiii> 

sioimry  tliiit  \i-,\w^  tin'  iiiin'ly  iiml  iiiin'  ^iit'cly  within 
the  fohl  Miul  -ci'ks  out  iiinl  ii'i'ovcrs  the  ln^t  (ir  slniyiii^' 
(iiw  til  rcliirii  him  In  li'r-  triii'  IhTitii^'i'  with  (lir  One. 
--li(»phi*r<i. 

'I'lir  |iiiiili'il  wuiil  ill  tile  -infill  ways  nf  life;  -  the- 
ininli'il  word  t'nlliiifj  iitluvaii  IIm'  |iatli  of  tlii'  hiinli'iicl 
simii'i- -  till'  one  who  wonhl  not  scrk  the  >ilffly  of  tlii' 
sliccp  fohl,  the  iiislruflioiis  anil  cvhoitations  of  tlio 
shi'pliiTil.  nor  till'  socii'ty  of  tin'  viKliti'oiis  —  pricks  tlii' 
I'olisrii'iici-  ami  hfroini-  tin'  litth'  li'avi'ii  that  li'iivi'iii'lh 
till'  whoh'! 

IJiit  siinnhl  the  I'itaih'l  of  thi'  hi'art  ri'fnsc  ailinis 
slon  to  thi'  lirsf  oiislaiifrht  of  tlio  priiiti'.l  wonl  that 
iiiav  si'i'k  aihnission,  il-  niiillipliciition  ami  mntiiiiii'il 
assault  will,  in  tho  I'l-oviili'in'o  of  lioil,  ovi'Itohh'  I  hi' 
most  oli-tinati'  ii'sistani'i',  will  lii-oak  ilown  tin'  stronj; 
I'st  harrici-s  I'vcn  as  tlii'  sri'iith-  -/ophyrs  uniti'  to  forin 
tho  toniailo  that  Ini'aks  ilowii  ami  -wi'i'ps  I'ViTythiiii;' 
lii'foi'i'  it  —  .'Vi'!i  as  till'  tiny  ih'w-.lrop>  that  irliston  in 
till'  inoniiiiK  sun  niiito  to  niakr  tin'  niiu'lity  ooran  that 


till'  poiiniioroi'  nf  tin'  woihl  upon  it-  hi 


iinil 


vhicli  is  irri'sistihli'  in  its  niijrlit   -  I'vi'ii  as  tho  L'l'iitly 


falling  snow 


fhiki's  that,  nniti'il,  form  tlii'  miirlity  avi 


laiii'hi'  that  sworps  ilown  thi'  inoiintaiii  siilr  ami  I'mslii's 
into  nothinirni'ss  tlio  miifhtii'st  works  of  iiii'ii  -  -  I'vi'ii  a- 
thi'  Ki-ains  of  -anil    inliltrato   tin'  ori'vici's   nf  iniirhty 

inoiintiiins  ami  I'Vi'iitiially  wriMii-h  tln'in  asnmlrr  a-  if 

niailt'  of  ciH'kh'  shells. 


238 


OATHEKF.n    WaIII.KTS 


The  church— Ood'B  church— the  cliurcli  ()r«ani/.cMl 
and  commissioned  by  the  Kternal  Son  of  the  Eternal 
Father  at  the  Last  Supper  to  teach,  lius  had  many 
sturdy  heroes  and  heroines  who  successfully  used  all 
available  means  to  meet  and  overthrow  tlie  eriors  and 
wickedness  of  their  times  —  individuals,  yea,  giants  of 
holiness  to  combat  and  overthrow  tlie  afjeiits  of  tin- 
powers  of  darkness  and  their  works,  tlie  Heresiarehs 
and  Heresies  of  the  a^es  of  tin'  past  —  saint.'il  men 
and  women  —  vessels  of  election  to  smite  the  evd- 
doers  and  <lestroy  their  pernicious  woiks  and  doc- 
trines—men  and  women  of  intellect,  of  will,  i>f  zeal, 
and  fire  to  do  the  work  of  the  Master,  and  win  His 
"Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,"  and  the  enco- 
miums and  veneraticm  of  their  deseenihuits  and  suc- 
cessors. 

At  no  time  in  the  history  of  the  worhl  have  f,'icatcr 
efforts  been  put  forth  than  the  present  to  sow  the 
cookie  of  untruth,  to  besmirch  the  church  of  the  liviuf!: 
God,  to  weaken  faith  and  emanciiiate  mankind  from 
the  "Thus  saith  the  Lord,"  to  malifjn  ami  hclittle 
His  servants,  to  misrepresent  His  doctrines  and  teach- 
ings, to  weaken  and  overthrow  faith,  ami  to  propagate 
indifference,  asnosticism  ami  other  i-rmrs  — and  tlw 
printed  word  is  the  most  powerful  ami  .■iTectnid  weaiion 
in  the  arsenal  of  the  enemy. 

Must  it  he  always  tlius.'  .\lnst  this  mi-lity  a^ent 
for  good  be  forever  ))rostituted  to  the  had  :'  Must  i\\v 
work  of  the  Evil  One  be  not  d.'stroyed  ;  .\nd  hy  whom 
if  not  by  the  Chihiren  of  Lii-'ht ;'  Will  nol  tlio-e 
divinely  commissioned  to  teach  come  tn  the  re-<  in'  ami 
give  victorious  battle  f  Or  nmst  we  wail  until  Ljreater 
mischief     is     wnmglit,    .srreater     .Icva-lation     -prcad 


The  Printed  Word. 


239 


thronghont  the  world,  a  greater  harvest  of  souls  gath- 
ered to  an  eternity  of  misery  with  the  damned  ? 

Speed  the  day  when  the  printed  word  will  serve 
the  right  rather  than  the  wrong,  will  build  up  and 
strengthen  rather  than  weaken  and  destroy.  Speed  the 
day  when  the  printed  word  will,  like  the  gentle  zephyrs, 
unite  in  a  tornado  of  blessings  and  grace  that  will  uproot 
and  overthrow  wickedness  and  error,  like  the  gently 
falling  snow-flakes  gather  in  volume  and  intensity  to 
form  an  avalanche  to  crush  and  overthrow  the  Enemy 
of  souls,  like  the  glistening  dew  drops  form  a  mighty 
ocean  to  carry  the  message  of  the  gospel  to  the  fur- 
thermost ends  of  the  earth  with  irresistible  might, 
like  the  grains  of  sand  unite  and  wrest  asunder  the 
mighty  mountains  of  error  for  the  greater  honor  and 
glory  of  God  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 

The  harvest  is  ripe.  The  means  is  at  hand.  When 
will  it  be  sanctifled  to  the  highest  and  holiest  use  ? 
When  will  the  "  other  sheep  I  have  that  are  not  of  this 
fold,  them  also  must  I  bring"  of  the  Master  be  fully 
realized  ? 

When  will  His  disciples  use  the  Apostolate  of  the 
press  with  all  the  fiery  zeal  and  success  that  character- 
ized the  early  Christians  i  Or  must  we  wait  the  com- 
ing of  another  hero  to  sanctify  this  means  to  holier 
ends,  and  add  another  name  to  the  Calendar  of  Saints } 
— Annals  of  Saint  Anthony's  Shrine,  Worcester,  Mass., 
June,  1905. 


' ':  til 


PILGRIMAGES. 


PILGRIMAGES  date  back  to  the  earliest  ages.  In 
the  beginning  they  were  made  to  some  spot  or 
place  memorable  in  the  history  of  a  nation  or 
people-to  commemorate  some  great  achievement  or 
to  honor  the  hero  or  heroes  by  whose  instrumentality 
the  deed  was  wrought,  to  stimulate  inspiration,  to 
arouse  enthusiasm,  and  to  consecrate  anew  the  devo- 
tion and  loyalty  of  the  participants. 

Christianity  in  this,  as  in  many  other  things,  did 
not  condemn   or  forbid  this  ancient  practice    but 
adapted  it  to  more  worthy  ends  and  higher  ideals 
and  made  it  of  service  to  Christianity.     It  was  but 
natural  for  the  Apostles,  Disciples  and  followers  of 
the  crucified  Lord  to  meet  at  stated  times  and  places 
in  and  about  Jerusalem  to  commemorate  important 
events  in  the  life  of  the  Master,  and  in  a  body  visit 
the  places  sanctified  and  made  memorable  by  His 
presence  and  miracles,  to  find  comfort  and  consolation 
in  the  society  of  each  other,  added  strength  by  com- 
bined prayer,  to  thus  publicly  avow  their  faith  and  loy- 
alty, and  to  consecrate  themselves  anew  to  the  spread 
of  His  gospel    These  gatherings  and  movements  from 
place  to  place  were  the  first  Christian  pilgrimages. 

The  fervor  of  the  early  Christians  knew  no  bounds, 
and  with  the  spread  of  Christianity  pilgrimages  were 
maintained  to  Jerusalem  from  distant  parts.  In  those 
farK)ff  days  all  civilized  nations  vied  with  each  other 
in  promoting  the  growth  and  spread  of  Christianity  by 


PiLORtMAQEa 


241 


enconraging  pilgrimages,  and  none  of  these  was  more 
in  evidence  in  this  good  work  than  Saxon  England 
down  to  and  and  even  beyond  the  Middle  Ages. 

During  the  early  centuries  of  Christianity  the  Pil- 
grims wore  a  peculiar  garb  with  hood  and  cape,  a  low 
crowned  hat,  a  staff  in  hand,  scrip  and  water  bottle, — 
and  many  wore  a  special  badge  to  differentiate  them 
from  others. 

With  the  spread  of  Christianity  to  more  distant  parts 
of  the  world  pilg.  images  could  not  be  made  to  Jerusa- 
lem without  great  inconvenience  and  danger.  Pil- 
grimages were  singularly  blessed  in  that  they  rendered 
valuable  aid  in  the  building  up  and  spread  of  Chris- 
tianity, and,  during  the  third  century,  in  order  to  ben- 
efit the  faithful  and  increase  their  usefulness,  instead 
of  going  to  Jerusalem  as  formerly,  pilgrimages  were 
made  to  the  tombs  of  Martyrs  and  Confessors — 
God's  chosen  heroes — nearer  home  where  indulgen- 
ces and  other  spiritual  advantages  might  be  ob- 
tained. This  practice  rapidly  e.xtended  and  made 
those  strong  in  the  faith  stronger,  the  weak  strong,  the 
indifferent  earnest — and  as  results  large  harvests  of 
souls.  The  zeal  of  the  early  Christians  knew  no 
bounds,  and  their  ardor  for  their  religion  made  its 
public  avowal  by  means  of  pilgrimages  so  popular, 
general  and  dominant  that  the  restraining  hands  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church — Saint  Chrysostom,  Saint  Au- 
gustine, Saint  Gregory,  and  others,  were  necessary  to 
limit  them  and  keep  them  within  proper  bounds. 

The  rebellion  of  the  intellect  against  God — the  "  I 
will  not  serve"  of  the  world — has  done  much  to  curtail 
and  modify  many  of  the  early  and  helpful  practices  of 
the  Church — pilgrimages  among  their  number.  Where 


iim. 


^43 


Gathmed  Waiflits. 


:(  ?!!' 


the  dollar  reigns  the  ideal  langnisheg.  Where  mam- 
mon is  worshipped  the  things  of  God  are  no  longer 
rendered  nnto  him  as  openly  or  so  generally  or  gener- 
ously as  in  the  days  of  the  pilgrimages  of  the  past 

Who  with  proper  sentiments  welling  up  within  him 
can  fail  to  be  benefitted  and  uplifted,  strengthened  and 
made  better,  by  a  visit  to  the  stable  of  the  Nativity,  to 
Calvary,  to  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  to  the  tombs  of  Mar- 
tyrs, Confessors  and  Saints?— and  who  would  not  be 
touched  and  thrilled  by  the  sight,  fervor  and  devotion 
of  many  associates  and  companic  u?  upon  a  similar  mis- 
sion? 

Our  chureh  in  this  country  is  shorn  of  many  of  its 
beautiful  and  edifying  practices,  but  let  us  indulge  the 
hope  that  the  Annual  Pilgrimage  to  the  House  of 
Nazareth  in  Leicester  may  continually  grow  in  volume 
and  K  .-vor  to  rival  the  best  in  the  olden  time,  and  that 
every  participating  Pilgrim  may  receive  great  spirit- 
ual benefit  and  other  blessings,  and  live  long  to  give 
thanks  that  an  opportunity  has  been  given  to  make 
a  pilgrimage  in  this  new  land  of  the  Western  world. — 
Annals  of  Saint  Anthony's  Shrine,  June,  1908. 


*    15 


WHEAT  AND  COCKLE. 


FROM  the  time  when  the  Omnipotent  Jehovah 
made  man  and  gave  him  dominion  over  all  cre- 
ated things,  the  world  has  been  a  field  in  which 
the  wheat — the  right,  good  and  prai^io worthy — has  been 
oversown  with  cockle — the  wrong,  base  and  vicious. 
The  garden  of  Eden  where  man's  presence  was  first 
known  and  felt  on  earth,  the  sacred  spot  where  the  Cre- 
ator deigned  to  commune  and  converse  with  the  crea- 
ture, was  no  exception.  There  the  sower  of  cockle 
came,  and  the  fair  field  of  Eden,  Paradise,  was  befouled 
and  defiled. 

The  sad  story  of  Cain  and  Abel  confirms  and  accen- 
tuates the  persistence  and  success  of  the  debasing  and 
degrading  cockle  sower.  The  fair  field  of  wheat  in 
Noah'i.  time  had  been  well  nigh  overrun  and  blotted 
out.  The  cockle  had  so  multiplied  and  become  so  in- 
tolerant and  offensive  that  the  Creator — the  great  God 
of  might,  wisdom  and  love — said :  "  I  will  destroy 
man,  whom  I  have  created,  from  the  face  of  the  earth, 
from  man  even  to  beasts,  from  the  creeping  things 
even  to  the  fowls  of  the  air,  for  it  repenteth  me  that 
I  have  made  them." — Genesis  vi.  7. 

To  vindicate  His  sovereignity  and  power  He  sent  the 
flood  of  Noah,  which  destroyed  nearly  all  created  things 
— the  work  of  His  love.  And  yet  these  severe  and 
drastic  dispensations  and  measures  of  the  olden  time 
have  not  wholly  destroyed  the  cockle  sowers  nor  saved 
mankind  from  the  results  of  their  pernicious  and  per- 


I     -^ 


'fp  ( 


244  Gathered  Waiflets. 

«.teut  endeavors.  Their  bl-''^"'^^"'^; '^^Jj 
discerned  throughout  aU  history  sacred  »»'!?'»'«!«' 
further  justifying  and  giving  "dded  emphas:s  to  he 
words  o  Solomon :  "What  is  it  that  hath  been  1  the 
Tm*  thing  that  shaU  be.  What  is  it  that  hath  been 
IneJ  the'  same  that  shall  be  done."-Eccles,astes 

*■  it  the  dawn  of  the  New  Dispensation  when  the 
Redeemer  was  bom  in  Bethlehem,  the  skughter  of 
^e  Innocents  was  sad  and  painful  evidence  of  the 
Burvival  and  success  of  the  cockle  sower-the  old-time 

•"  m'yt'hfinsation  of  a  God  of  wisdom  and 
love  the  evil  machinations  of  the  cockle  sower  are  per- 
mitted we  may  never  fuUy  know  °o' "''derstand  but 
That  it  will  be  until  the  end  is  clearly  evident  from 
the  teaching  and  command  of  the  Master,  when  He 
without  explanation,  forbade  His  disciples  to  pluck 
Ip  and  destroy  the  cockle,  saying;  "^et .^"^^^^f ^^ 
until  the  time  of  the  harvest:  and  m  the  time  of  the 
harvest  I  will  say  to  the  reapers:  Gather  up  flrs 
ATcockle,  and  bind  it  into  bundles  to  burn;  but 
gather  the  wheat  into  my  barn."-Mathew  xiu.  30 
%at  cockle  sowers-evil doers-willalwaysabound 

and  ply  their  nefarious  business  has  added  emphasis 
and  ^igniflcance  by  His  teaching  upon  mother  occasion 
when  he  said:  "It  is  impossible  that  B<=-dals  shall 
lot  come;  but  woe  to  him  through  whom  they  come. 

"in  o'^fown'day'the  work  of  the  cockle  Bo-e;  i«J" 
prominent  and  painful  evidence  throughout  he  field 
^f  the  whole  world.  Obedient  to  the  teachmg  and 
commands  of  the  Redeemer  of  mankind,  the  church 


Wheat  and  Cocklb. 


245 


which  He  established  and  with  which  He  abides  has 
made  unceasing  and  saccessfal  warfare  apon  the  sow- 
ers of  cockle.  Heavenly  giants,  valiant  warriors, 
heroic  souls — God's  heroes  all — have  not  failed  to 
give  battle  and  with  their  hearts'  blood  to  win  many  a 
victory  for  truth  and  right — have  protected  God's  fair 
wheat  field  from  the  sowers  of  repulsive  and  injurious 
cockle. 

Their  names  are  legion  and  they  are  emblazoned 
upon  the  records  of  the  recording  Angel  and  enshrined 
in  the  hearts  of  the  loving  and  grateful  posterity  who 
are  now  waging  the  same  wars  in  the  years  of  the 
world  of  to-day  in  which  they  so  successfully  strove, 
and  now  is  theirs  the  well  earned  reward  of  "Well 
done,  goo'l  and  faithful  servant  Enter  thou  into  the 
joys  of  the  Lord." 

In  this  day  of  ours  unnumbered  cockle  sowers  are 
conducting  an  active  campaign  throughout  the  world. 
The  intense  life  of  the  20th  century,  the  throb  and 
thrill  and  energy  of  existence,  the  leviathans  of  the 
deep,  the  smoke  belching  forth  from  innumerable 
chimneys  that  pierce  the  clouds,  herculean  undertak- 
ings iu  the  marts  of  business,  the  hum  and  rumble  of 
tireless  machinery,  and  the  frenzy  and  whirl  of  the 
financial  world,  all  bear  testimony  to  the  unprece- 
dented worldliness  of  the  present  time^to  the  graft 
and  grab  of  the  age. 

Can  any  combination  of  circumstances  combine  to 
ofler  greater  opportunity  to  the  sowers  of  cockle  ? 

If  the  outlook  over  the  vast  field  of  the  world  re- 
veals a  super-abundance  of  cockle  and  inducement  for 
the  nefarious  work  of  cockle  sowers,  the  sowers  of  wheat 
must  not  be  cast  down  nor  become  disheartened.    They 


[  IS^ 


!*  I 


346 


Gatbibbd  Waiflbts. 


rl 


are  not  to  expect  biUow.  of  God's  goodness  that  wiU 
overwhelm  and  overthrow  at  once,  as  did  the  Red  Sea; 
they  are  not  to  expect  an  earthquake  that  wiU  utterly 
destroy  the  cockle;  they  are  not  to  expect  a  ram  that 
will  fall  upon  the  just  and  not  upon  the  unjust 

All  betterment  at  first  comes,  under  God,  thi  )Ugh 
individual  initiativa  There  is  no  hurry,  no  frenzy, 
with  that  Power  outside  ourselves  which  is  all  Power- 
ful It  is  but  for  the  individual  to  do  quietly  in  his 
or  her  own  smaU  way  the  best  that  is  in  him  or  her, 
leaving  the  result  to  the  Master,  who  uttered  the  para- 
ble of  the  mustard  seed  and  promised  reward  to  the 
giver  of  a  cup  of  cold  water  in  His  name. 

"In  union  there  is  strength,"  and  we  may  add,  when 
in  a  good  cause,  helpfulness  and  edification.  In  God's 
good  time  these  individual  atoms  of  goodness  will 
unite,  as  do  the  glistening  drops  of  dew  upon  the 
mountain  top,  into  rivulets  and  mighty  rivers,  to  vivify 
and  rejuvenate  all  below— to  check  the  work  of  the  sow- 
ers of  cockle  and  to  purify  the  spiritual  atmosphere  of 
the  world. 

Is  not  the  annual  pilgrimage  to  the  Shnne  of  Naza- 
reth in  Leicester  one  of  the  visible  manifestations  of 
such  growing  union  in  the  good  cause  ?  And  is  it  not 
an  expression  of  faith,  hope,  and  desire  on  the  part  of 
the  growing  numbers  who  take  part  therein  to  defeat 
or  limit  the  work  of  the  soweis  of  cockle  ar  1  to  give 
greater  honor  and  glory  to  God  and  His  Immaculate 
Mother  h- Annals  of  Saint  Anthony' i  Shrine,  Worctsttr, 
Mass.,  June,  1909. 


I      I 


RICHES  IN  POVERTY. 


WHEN  the  words  Riches  and  Poverty  are  used 
in  a  worldly  sense,  the  way  in  which  they 
are  generally  used,  they  are  antithetical  and 
mutually  destructive ;  but  in  a  higher  sense,  the  sense 
in  which  they  are  now  used,  and  in  which  it  is  highest 
wisdom  to  use  them,  they  are  in  sweetest  accord,  reas- 
suring and  comforting.  Riches,  as  too  generally  under- 
stood, is  material  wealth,  wordly  wealth — money,  prop- 
erty, human  attainment  for  human  ends — will-o'-the- 
wisps  that  ever  attract  and  fascinate  only  to  deceive 
and  disappoint. 

The  frenzy  for  accumulating  money  and  what  it 
represents,  the  fierce  and  unholy  strife  to  attain  to  a 
pedestal  in  the  limelight  of  public  life  or  social  dis- 
tinction, the  unremitting  toil  of  the  student  and  savant 
who  bum  the  midnight  oil  to  attract  the  attention  and 
command,  if  possible,  the  admiration  of  their  feUow 
men,  now  so  generally  dominant  throughout  the  world — 
to  the  indifference  and  neglect  of  the  higher,  nobler  and 
more  enduring — have  blinded  the  ey«s  of  their  devotees 
and  blunted  the  finer  sensibilities  to  the  true  significa- 
tion, appreciation  and  importance  of  the  higher  and 
better  meaning  of  the  words  riches  and  poverty. 

Men  in  every  worldly  walk  of  life,  men  whom  the 
world  blindly  calls  great— from  the  men  who  have 
attained  to  the  topmost  round  in  the  ladder  of  things 
worldly,  down  to  the  feeble  imitators  in  the  humbler 
walks  of  life — all  bum  incense  before  the  shrine  of 


;  :-'f^ 


*  ■ 


348 


Oathirid  Waiflkts. 


worldly  wealth  and  attainment  and  blindly  pnrene  the 
deceptive  and  misleading  goddess  during  aU  the  days 
of  their  earthly  pilgrimage;  and  they  measure  their 
achievements  by  their  financial  success  and  material 
gain,  only  to  find  that  all  inexorably  end  and  become 
as  ashes  to  them  after  a  few  short  years  of  earthly  ex- 
istence. 

Myriads  of  such  have  burdened  themselves  with  the 
anxieties  and  cares  of  the  world,  have  sacrificed  their 
lives  to  selfish  ends  and  the  accumulation  of  worldly 
wealth  or  distinction,  have  lived  their  allotted  time — 
a  merest  lightning  flash  as  compared  with  the  years  of 
eternity— and  left  everything.everything behind — even 
the  names  of  the  vast  majority  of  them  are  accorded 
no  place  in  the  calendar  of  the  names  of  those  who 
once  lived  upon  the  earth. 

They  lived  for  the  world  and  now  the  world  forgets 
or  spurns  them ;  they  toiled  for  fame  but  now  their 
names  and  deeds  are  buried  with  them ;  and  who  shall 
say  that  the  Recording  Angel  has  written  their  names 
in  the  Book  of  Life  2  The  sad  fate  of  such  misguided 
ones  is  fittingly  and  forcefully  told  in  the  words  of 
the  poet: 

"  the  loudest  blast 

That  ever  filled  Renown's  obstreperous  trump 

Fades  in  the  lapse  of  ages," 

and 

"they  sleep,  and  never  more 
Their  names  shall  strike  upon  the  ear  of  man." 
It  requires  no  silver-tongued  homilist  to  proclaim  nor 
learned  exegetist  to  persuade  that  true  riches  abide 
only  with  wisdom— the  wisdom  that  chooseth  the  bet- 
ter part  and  heeds  the  teaching  of  the  Master,  the  wis- 


RiOHIS   IN   PoVBBTY. 


24!) 


dom  that  oppoaes  the  maxiniB  of  the  world  and  aparns 
its  allDrementa,  the  wisdom  that  weighs  every  act  and 
ever  reminds  those  in  the  world  that  "  man  hath  not 
here  his  abiding  place." 

This  highest  wisdom— this  prif'eless  wealth,  the 
wealth  that  endures  forever — now,  as  in  the  days  when 
the  Redeemer  was  upon  the  earth  in  human  form  to 
bestow  it  as  light,  guidance  and  strength  to  all  who 
would  receive  it,  abounds  more  generally  among  the 
meek  and  humble,  the  lowly  and  obscure — the  worldly 
poor,  unknown  and  unappreciated. 

In  saner  times  in  the  not  long  ago  the  toilers  of  the 
world  were  less  infatuated  than  now  with  the  things 
of  the  world  and  more  c-losely  followed  in  the  foot, 
steps  of  the  great  Exemplar,  and  they  trod  the  wine 
press  of  their  daily  toil  in  greater  humility,  resigna- 
tion and  hopefulness  and  thereby  conformed  their 
lives  to  highest  wisdom,  and  in  worldly  poverty 
laid  up  stores  of  wealth  that  end  not  with  life 
but  which  endure  forever.  The  harvest  of  the  hus- 
bandman might  fail  yet  he  did  not  repine,  the  work 
of  the  mechanic  might  not  prosper  yet  he  did  not 
murmur,  death  might  steal  away  the  bread  winner  of 
the  household  yet  the  mother  in  her  bereavement  was 
reconciled.  The  fatherhood  of  God  was  paramount  in 
every  humble  walk  of  life,  and  whether  the  day  brought 
sunshine  or  shadow,  sickness  or  health,  joy  or  sadness, 
success  or  failure  in  a  worldly  sense,  God  so  orHnined, 
and  to  His  holy  name  be  honor,  glory,  and  praise, 
and  to  His  will  in  humility,  filial  submission  and 
christian  resignation. 

To  these  and  such  as  these,  battling  as  soldiers  faith- 
fully striving  to  do  the  will  of  the  Master,   and 


in 


250  Gathehkd  Waiflbtb. 

natiently  accepting  and  ^notifying  thewvcaUed  vicU- 

their  poverty  the  reward  of  pncele»»  treasure  that  will 

^^0^^:rrW  r  rui    ■»  .ind  and  pure  of 
heS^^^^  a"j  called  to  higher  «t«t.--to  W.e-w- 
of  heavenly  wisdom  and  diBpensen.  of  .mpen^hable 
lalth     These  lowly  and  unknown  brotherhoods  and 
li  Soods,  like  their  Master  whom  they  so  loyal 
and  devotedly  strive  to  serve,  ''"''»'"='',  ,"V,~' 
lod   maligned,  and  despised  by  the  world,  but  hav- 
rchoTnThe  better  part  they  grow  not  weary    n 
wfu  do  ng,   nor  wiU  the  aUurements  of  the  world 
Toud  their'wisdom  or  lessen  their  -lor  to  fos^'t 
for  their  own  good  and  to  bestow  U  -^-^J^ 
tnnate  and  bring  them  within  its  saving  iniluence 
'Tn  thTs  twentfeth  century  age  the  desire  for  world  y 
jrlnd  achievement-wealth,  station,  dignity,  honor, 
Stlelike-iBtheloadstoneoftheworld-thenches 
and  glory  of  Time  after  which  poor  misguided  human- 
ty  ever^trives,  but  which  too  'f -  «pell  fadure  am. 
poverty  in  the  presence  of  the  Lord.     Of  the  worm. 
lis,  tW  too  often  bear  down  and  -tard;  o   the 
Irld,  worldly,  they  too  often  despoil  and /«««»»    °f 
the  w;rld,  worldly,  they  substitute  the  shadow  for  the 
substance,  the  perishable  for  the  imperishable. 

TYe  priceless  value  of  souls  is  bartered  upon  the 
transient  bargain  counter  of  life,  and  too  often,  alas ! 
Jese  pricelcBs  treasures  that  are  to  endure  through- 


RiciiKH  IN  Poverty. 


2r.i 


out  eternity  are  exchanged  for  the  evanescent  thingi 
of  Time. 

The  man  of  the  world  should  have  at  least  snfflcient 
worldly  wisdom  and  be  actuated  by  at  least  worldly 
sense,  if  not  by  higher  motives,  to  take  a  frequent 
stock  account  of  his  daily  life,  make  honest  footings 
as  becomes  an  honest  man,  and  then  rigidly  scrutinize 
every  act  and  note  its  influence  upon  his  daily  life  and 
the  tendency  and  impetus  that  they  impart,  and,  after 
an  exhaustive  and  honest  audit,  set  about  with  a  deter 
mined  will  to  be  honest  with  himself,  honorable  to  the 
light  given  him,  honorable  to  his  opportunities,  and 
then  to  turn  from  the  alluring,  deceiving  and  tempor- 
izing and  seek  only  after  the  valuable  and  eternal. 
Then  will  be  learned  the  science  of  right  living  and 
the  wisdom  that  commands  an  alert  an<l  approving 
conscience  in  this  world — the  greatest  treasure  of 
life — and  wealth  that  neither  the  rust  nor  the  moth 
doth  consume,  treasure  that  the  world  cannot  confis- 
cate, treasure  that  its  fortunate  possessors  will  take 
with  them  into  the  great  hereafter,  where  it  secures  for 
them  the  greatest  of  all  attainments,  the  greatest  of 
all  blessings— the  enrollment  of  their  names  by  the 
Recording  Angel  in  the   Book  of  Life  with  God's 
heroes,  and  unending  bliss  with  the  elect.— ArnialB 
of  St.  Anthcmy's  Shrine,  Worcester,  Maes.,  June,  1910. 


'■!f 


V:    r 


£  r^i 


A  TRUCE  IN  THE  WARFARE  OF  LIFE. 


"  The  world  ia  too  much  with  ub;  late  and  Boon, 
Getting  and  Bpending;  we  lay  waBte  our  powers : 
Little  we  Bee  in  nature  that  is  ours. 


THE  battle  of  life  grows  fiercer  and  fiercer;  the 
fever  of  frenzied  ambition  and  strife  is  grow- 
ing more  and  more  acute  and  rapidly  extend- 
ing- the  world  is  speedily  and  sadly  drifting  from 
older  and  safer  moorings;  treading  the  wine  press 
of  duty  daily  becomes  moie  exacting  and  exhausting. 
Brave  and  intrepid  warriors  are  still  upon  the  battle- 
field waging  valiant  and  vigorous  combat  for  (rod  the 
home  and  country;  waging  uncompromiBing  warfare 
against  the  "I  will  not  believe"  and  the    I  will  not 
serve"  of  the  world  and  the  offspring  thereof— mon- 
ism, pragmatism,  agnosticism,  infirm  philosophies— 
the  loss  of  probity  and  honor  in  aU  the  walks  of  bfe, 
the  great  crime  against  the  sanctity  of  the  home,  the 
stifling  of  conscience,  the  personal  irresponsibility  of 
the   individual,   the   exaltation   of  the  erratic  enact- 
ments of  men  above  the  eternal  laws  of  God-all  these 
and  many  others  that  may  well  be  grouped  together 
and  labelled  Modernism. 

"  But  thou,  O  man  of  God,  fly  these  things :  and  pur- 
sue piety,  faith,  charity,  justice,  meekness."-I  Timo- 
thy vi:2.    The  struggle  is  enervating  and  exhausting. 


A  Truck  in  the  Warfare  of  Life. 


253 


hninan  nature  has  its  physical  limitations,  and  "  hope 
deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick." 

Join  with  me,  fellow  pilgrim  and  warrior,  during 
a  truce  in  the  conflict,  and  let  us  away  to  the  peace- 
ful, elevating  and  recuperative  solitudes  far  from  the 
haunts  and  contentions  of  men ;  there  to  rest  and  read 
the  hieroglyphics  of  the  firmament,  mountains,  woods, 
and  waters,  startling  in  their  impressiveness  and  sug- 
gestiveness,  and  where  no  discordant  note  is  heard  to 
disturb  the  harmony ;  there  to  meditate  and  contem- 
plate; there  to  forcefully  and  effectually  realize  the 
omnipotence  and  merciful  kindness  of  thei''  Creator; 
there  to  rest  and  recuperate  exhausted  energies  so  that 
we  may  return  with  greater  ardor  to  wage  more  aggres- 
sive and  successful  warfare  in  the  battle  of  life.  "For 
you  shall  go  out  with  joy,  and  be  led  forth  with  peace ; 
the  mountains  and  the  hills  shall  sing  praises  before 
you,  and  all  the  trees  of  the  country  shall  clap  their 
hands." — Isais  iv:12. 

As  weary  pilgrims  but  not  as  deserters  we  withdraw 
from  the  battlefield ;  as  worn  and  battle-scarred  war- 
riors we  an-ive  in  tho,  icstful  solitudes  where  grandeur 
greets  the  vision,  enchantment  chains  the  mind  and 
tranquility  gives  welcome ;  where  peace  and  benedic- 
tion reign;  where  the  mind  is  unfettered,  untram- 
melled and  free  to  contemplate  itself  and  its  manifold 
duties,  responsibilities  and  opportunities. 

With  noon-day  clearness  we  see  a  mental  picture  of 
the  Saviour  of  mankind  and  His  disciples  and  follow- 
ers turning  away  from  the  Modernists  of  His  time  and 
the  trials  and  contentions  of  life  and  we  more  fuUy  real- 
ize why  He  journeyed  with  them  to  a  mountain  apart 
(Mathew  v)  where  He  spoke  as  man  never  spoke, 


__JI 


,  I 


i,  1  ■ 


254  Gathered  Waifletb. 

where  He  teaches  and  reaesures  His  hearers  and  aU 
;ankmd,  where  He  proclaimed  the  joys  and  consola- 
tions  of  the  Eight  Beatitudes.  _ 

But  at  last  we  have  arrived  in  the  P'---J  1;"^^°^ 
the  solitudes  far  from  the  burning  sands  of  tho  battl^ 
ie  d  the  fevered  atmosphere  of  life's  warfare  and    he 
mil  iplied  pitfalls  of  the  world;  amved  where  the 
LmensUv  of  space,  the  order  of  the  flrmament,  the 
"rlf  the'hea'vens,the  majesty  and  grandeur  o 
towering  mountains  and  the  beauty  a»d   punty   of 
hX  snowK^overed  summits,  the  music  of  the  npphng 
brooks  and  the  roar  of  catara  ts.  the  sough.ng  of  the 
'rnSg  bree.  and  the  crooning  of  trees  ^n  the  path- 
less  woods  all  join  in  singing  an  »nend>ng  Te  ^um  to 
the  great  Jehovah,  the  Creator  and  Lord  of  aU    ana 
the  ^1  worn  warriors  humbly  bow  down  in  adoration 
and  Draise  to  their  Lord  and  Master  and  m  sincere 
humiS  make  renewed  acts  of  faith,  hope,  chanty, 

obedience  and  service.  .  , 

"Let  all  the  earth  adore  hee,  and  sing  to  thee ,  let 
itsinzapsalmtothyname."-P8alm8lxv:4. 

Th!  goWen  sunshine  lends  an  added  beauty  to  the 
Juntafntops  and  suggests  the  bounty  of  Divine  bless- 

r^vouchsrfed  to  aU  who  give  them  welcome ;  their 
towering  summits  the  midday  manhood  in  the  vigor 
of  lifri^i.8ing  in  the  friendship  of  the  Maker;  when 
a  satdTy  vTolent  storms  of  lightning  and  thunder, 
unmil  and  unmoved,  they  typify  holy  souls  inj 
fecTually  assailed  by  the  onsUughts  »*  --^;-^^; 
again  in  the  twilight,  like  the  mercy  »  ^^^irJ^^Ts 
V.    *^,^r,  «nnear  as  mighty  sentinels  and  bnlwarKS 
;tidLg  ovrLa'protLng  aU  during  the  darkn^s 
ornight ;  and  yet  ^ain  as  abiding  monuments  and 


A  Truce  in   the  Warfare  of  Life.        2.')5 

testimonies  to  God's  presence  and  benediction  in  the 
unbroken  silence  during  the  sunshine  of  day  as  well  as 
under  the  starry  heavens  or  darkness  of  night ;  and 
yet  once  again  when  the  rosy  tints  of  morning  kiss 
their  summits  with  the  light  of  dawn  and  proclaim  the 
end  of  the  inactivities  of  night  they  suggest  and  typify 
the  call  of  the  Master  anew  to  the  duties  and  responsi- 
bilities of  the  new-born  day. 

The  beauty  of  the  placid  lake  in  the  quiet  places 
suggests  and  typifies  nature's  great  baptismal  font ;  in 
its  soothing  and  restful  calm,  the  peace  and  happi- 
ness of  the  shriven  soul ;  when  lashed  into  fury  by  the 
howling  storm,  a  soul  violently  assailed  by  the  powers 
of  darkness ;  now  servant  now  master  of  men  like  the 
triumph  of  grace  or  the  conquest  of  evil. 

Gushing  mountain  springs  speak  to  us  of  the  o-it- 
pouring  plenitude  and  life-giving  quality  of  God's 
mercy,  and  that  their  refreshing  and  sustaining  waters 
like  His  mercy,  are  free  to  all  who  seek  and  partake. 
The  flowing  stream,  ever  joyously  singing  its  unen<l- 
ing  symphony,  kissing  every  glistening  pebble  on  its 
bottom,  and  nourishing  the  wihl  flowers  and  vegetation 
upon  its  banks  as  it  journeys  along  to  renew  and  sus 
tain  the  waters  of  the  lake,  eloquently  and  forcefully 
tell  us  of  the  ever-flowing  stream  of  the  Creator's  love 
and  grace  that  ever  flow  on  to  renew  and  sustain  His 
forgetful  and  erring  children  whom  lie  invites  to 
return  from  the  error  of  their  ways  and  lave  in  its 
purifying  waters. 

In  the  towering  forest  trees  we  see  typified  the 
human  giants  who  have  asserted  themselves  in  the 
affairs  of  the  world  for  the  glory  of  God  and  the  uplift 
of  their  fellow  men ;  in  the  gnarled  oak,  alone  upon 


f  ■ 
I  -     i 


i^ 


i  i-. 


!! 


|i^ 


356  Gathbbed  Waiflets. 

•he  mwed  cliff,  the  fearleBS  man  of  principle,  strong 

Sand  coUiouB  of  his  »f  "^^-*X-Sro; 
ent  man  of  deeds  who  respects  not  Ae  frailties  or 

oJ,l"sof  men,  and  who imperishab  y  wn^es his  name 
hi<zh  above  his  fellows  in  the  annals  of  Time,  m  tne 
S„P  of  Bpnice,  flr  and  pine  trees  whose  wholesome 
Mslic  odor  as  incense  purifies  and  ^^V<^rts  ^ 
gtcT  to  the  surrounding  atmosphere,  tell  us  of  the 

human  brotherhoods  of  men  and  women  wjo  live  ,n 
-*  «,«m  the  world,  and  whose  holy  lives 

groups  apart  from  the  >*oria 

and  the  incense  of  whose  holy  deeas  puniy,  o 

and  elevate  aU  who  come  within  their  saving  influence 
„  the  humble  and  beautiful  wild  lowers  we  see  ^^■ 

tare  of  pure  souls  in  the  hidden  places  of  We,  bloom 
rid   giving  forth   perfume  to  t^eir  Maker  and 

sending  up  the  fragrance  of  holy  lives  and  holy  deeds 

Tthelreat  whiteXone  on  high;  *>>« J-^^^rJ  ^ 


^i     f 


A  Tecce  in  the  Wakkabe  of  Life.        257 

been  sweetest  melody  to  our  ears,  and  the  majesty  and 
silence  of  the  woods  have  given  us  peace  and  vigor. 

We  retnm  to  the  warfare  of  life  refreshed  in  mind, 
invigorated  in  body,  strengthened  in  will  and  with 
renewed  ardor  and  determination  to  do  a  warrior's 
part  in  the  conflict;  but  we  shall  cherish  the  hope 
that  it  may  be  our  good  fortune  again  tc  tarry  in  the 
solitudes  to  recuperate  exhausted  energies  in  the  sani- 
toriam  canopied  by  the  heavens  and  to  offer  up  adora- 
tion and  praise  in  sanctuaries  not  made  by  human 
hands.— AnnaU  of  Saint  Anthony's  Shrine,  Worcester, 
Mass.,  June,  1911. 


I 


THE  OLDEST   BOOK  IN  THE  WORLD. 


THE  Oldest  Book  in  the  world  antedates  the  com- 
ing of  man  upon  this  planet.  Its  pages  glad- 
dened the  vision  and  hearts  of  our  first  parents 
in  the  Garden  of  Eden,  and  comforted  them  in  their 
sorrow.  The  hieroglyphics  in  which  it  is  written 
have  been  read  and  understood  by  all  the  human  fam- 
ily in  every  age,  in  every  clime,  and  of  every  condi- 
tion in  life— before  as  well  as  after  the  confusion  of 
tongues  at  the  building  of  the  Tower  of  Babel,  and 
the  dispersion  of  the  people  to  distant  lands— before  as 
well  as  after  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles  in  a  single 
tongue,  but  which  was  understood  by  their  hearers 
"out  of  every  nation  under  heaven." — Acts  1 1  :.5.  This 
book  has  ever  commanded  the  attention  and  admira- 


i 
i    t 


258  Gathered  Waiflets. 

tion  of  men,  and  awakened  their  appreciation  and 
gratitude;  the  ethical  and  uplifting  eentimentg  con- 
tained therein  have  found  human  expression  m  count- 
lesB  gems  of  thought,  clothed  in  captivating  dicuon 
but  little  below  that  of  the  heavenly  inspired  wnt«re, 
and  which  have  been  held  in  highest  admiration  and 
esteem  by  all  lovers  of  exalted  and  elevating  sentiment 
and  sublime  expression  that  touches  and  enthrals  the 

heart  of  man. 

This  oldest  book  of  the  world  is  the  Book  of  Nature, 
and  God  is  its  author-its  pages  are  the  expression  and 
illustration  of  His  power  and  love. 

It  is  recorded  in  Genesis  that  on  the  third  day  of 
creation  God  clothed  the  earth  in  a  mantle  of  beauty 
—with  verdure  that  lent  value  and  charm  to  His  hand- 
iwork and  benevolence,  with  lovely  shrubs  and  tower- 
ing forest  trees,  with  untold  varieties  of  foliage, 
fruits  and  iiowers,  for  the  needs,  delectation  and  uplift 
of  man  whom  He  wiU  create  and  give  appreciation  of 
them  and  dominion  over  them. 

It  were  an  unworthy  and  too  limited  conception  of 
the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  (Jod  to  conclude  that  His 
works  upon  the  third  day  of  creation  were  intended 
solely  to  serve  the  transient  and  limited  physical  needs 
of  mankind.  The  thoughtful,  discerning  and  reflective 
of  all  nations  and  peoples  throughout  the  world  since 
the  beginning  of  time  have  ever  wisely  recognized  and 
taught  that  man  hath  a  dual  existence-transient  and 
eternal-that  he  hath  here  only  a  temporary  abiding 
place,  and  that  his  true  home  is  with  his  Creator  in 
unending  bliss.  Long  before  books,  as  we  know 
them,  were  written  or  printed  by  man  the  hiero- 
glyphics  of   God's  handiwork,  read  in  the   Book  of 


■J      f 


The  Oldest  Book  in  the  World. 


259 


Nature  by  Hie  creatures  everywhere,  gave  mute  but 
positive  testimony  of  His  omnipotence,  mercy  and 
man's  dependence.    What  more  consonant  with  the 
wisdom,  plan  and  scope  of  the  great  Jehovah — the 
uncreated  intelligence— and  man's  reason,  filial  respect 
and  obedience,  than  to  believe  that  all  the  works  of 
Ilis  hands  had  also  a  dual  purpose — not  only  to  min- 
ister to  the  temporal  wants  of  His  creatures  but  also 
as  aids  in  the  revelation  of  Himself  to  them — to  in- 
struct and  uplift  them  to  His  knowledge  and  worship 
by  His  works  as  well  at  by  His  words,  to  minister  to 
the  wants  of  the  soul  no  less  than  to  the  wants  of  the 
body.    Sacred  and  profane  literature  furnish  eloquent, 
emphatic  and  abundant  concurring  testimony,  but  for 
lack  of  space  we  shall  confine  our  evidence  to  a  very 
few  brief  quotations  from  some  of  the  inspired  writers 
in  the  sacred  scriptures : 

"Generation  and  generation  shall  praise  Thy  works." 
—Psalms  clxiv:4.     "Let  all  thy  works,  O  Lord,  praise 
Thee."— Psalms  cxliv:10.    "The  Lord  is  justin  all  His 
ways  and  holy  in  aU  His  works."- Psalms  clxiv:17. 
"I  remembered  the  days  of  old ;  I  meditated  ;  I  medi- 
tated on  all  Thy  works ;   I  meditated  on  the  works  of 
Thy  hands."- Psalms  clxii:.'').     "In  the  works  of  Thy 
hands  I  shall  rejoice."— Psalms  xciih.     "The  earth  is 
the  Lord's  and  the  fullness  thereof."— Psalms  xxxiii:!. 
Who  shall  say  that  the  Book  of  Nature  is  unworthy 
of  its  author;  and  that  His  handiwork  is  not  a  never 
ending  wordless  appeal  to  the  observant,  thoughtful 
and  contemplative  to  awaken  anew,  to  uplift,  to  enno- 
ble and  to  sanctify— that  His  work  upon  the  third 
day  was  to  serve  only  the  pui"poaes  of  time? 

It  is  sad  to  consider  and  sadder  still  to  realize  how 


"*^ 


I     ■: 


i  t 


lii' 


Ii<i 


J:  « 


260  Gathekbd  Waiflbts. 

many  there  are  who  forget  and  ignore  God  in  all  Hie 
works  aave  that  of  man ;  forgetting  and  ignoring  the 
fact  that  the  same  omnipotence  and  love  are  as  abun- 
dantly and  forcefully  manifested  outwardly  in  the  cre- 
ation of  the  inanimate  as  well  as  in  the  animate,  and 
that  the  creation  of  both  found  lodgment  in  Omnipo- 
tence ere  time  began— and  that  both  were  created  to 
evidence  His  power  and  love.  "But  now  ask  the 
beasts  and  they  shall  teach  thee;  and  the  birds  of  the 
air  and  they  shall  tell  thee;  and  the  fishes  of  the  sea 
shall  tell  thee.  "Who  is  ignorant  that  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  hath  made  all  these  things."— Job  xii:7-8-9. 

All  the  works  of  creation  proclaim  and  reveal  the 
Creator,  some  to  a  greater  and  some  to  a  lesser  degree; 
and  to  different  individuals  more  or  less  as  they  are 
more  or  less  worthy.  And  again  many  of  His  works 
specially  typify  and  illustrate  some  of  the  many  vir- 
tues and  obligations  commended  and  commanded  by 
God  for  the  observance  of  man  in  all  his  relations 
with  his  fellow  man  which  he  cannot  ignore  and  from 
which  he  cannot  absolve  himself  without  transgress- 
ing the  laws  ordained  for  his  observance  by  his  Crea- 
tor. 

The  firmament,  unmeasured  and  unmeasurable,  un- 
known and  unknowable,  above  and  beyond  the  com- 
prehension of  man- type  of  God,  of  omnipotence,  of 
the  Creator,  of  eternity;  the  sun  in  the  heavens— tvpe 
of  the  glories  of  heaven,  the  lie-ht  md  warmth  of 
God's  love  and  mercy,  the  mid-day  light  of  conscience 
to  illumine  the  straight  and  narrow  path  of  duty  or- 
dained for  man  to  follow ;  the  moon  and  stars  glisten- 
ing in  space,  witnesses  of  the  great  Jehovah,  of  worlds 
unknown— type  of  the  angelic  host  throughout  unend- 


The  Oldest  Book  in  the  World. 


261 


ing  space  and  witnesses  of  the  eternal  Ood  and  dia- 
dems in  His  crown  of  Glory ;  the  ever  swelling  and 
Barging  billows  of  the  ocean — type  of  the  unending 
warfare  of  life,  their  ebb  and  flow  the  onslaught,  re- 
pulse, and  perturbations  upon  the  battlefield  of  the 
world. 

Ecstatics,  Mystics,  and  other  holy  ones  have  ever 
found  pleasure,  benefit  and  strength  in  the  pursuit  of 
holiness  when  contemplating  these  and  similar  exalted 
and  uplifting  works  of  His  hands.  The  great  masses 
of  mankind,  now  as  in  the  past,  must  ever  be  content 
to  walk  in  more  humble  paths,  but  even  here  they 
may  find  more  ample  food  to  ponder  and  aid  them  to 
a  fuller  realization  and  appreciation  of  the  goodness 
and  bounty  of  the  Godhead.  No  impossible  opportu- 
nity nor  transcendant  genius  is  imperative  or  even 
necessary  for  the  observation  or  contemplation  of  the 
more  commonplace  things  of  Nature.  Let  us  then. 
Viator,  take  courage  and  journey  into  the  neighboring 
wood  3  about  and  upon  yon  gentle  acclivity  and  ponder 
the  lesson  that  some  of  its  varied  commonplaces 
teach  to  those  who  have  eyes  that  see  and  ears  that 
hear. 

Ah !  this  once  cultivated  field  tells  the  story  of 
human  ambition  and  herculean  endeavor  to  subdue  the 
forest  and  make  its  broad  acres  subservient  to  the 
sustenance  of  man,  but  now  abandoned  to  pasturage 
and  undergrowth  it  tells  in  forcible  language  that  what 
one  man  or  generation  esteemeth  wisdom  another 
esteeroeth  folly,  what  one  generation  buildeth  up 
another  teareth  down.  But  here  w«  are  again  beside 
the  rippling  brook  ever  joyfully  fulfilling  its  allotted 
task  and  telling  us  never  to  grow  weary  in  well  doing ; 


2H2 


Gathered  Waiklets. 


its  sparkling  cascades  beneath  the  nmbrageous  trees 
make  beantifnl  pictures  as  does  the  man  who  performs 
his  alloted  task  in  patience  without  ranrmuring  and 
repining;  its  sibilant  music  falls  pleasantly  and  sooth- 
ingly upon  the  ear  as  does  the  tale  of  good  deeds  done 
in  the  darkene<l  places  of  life.     But  as  we  journey  to 
higher  levels  upon  the  hillside  beyond  we  must  for  the 
present  defer  the  further  consideration  of  the  many 
other  manifest,  beautiful  and  valuable  lessons  that  the 
meandering  brook  in  the  woods  teaches  and  accentu- 
ates.   But  now  we  are  in  the  denser  growth  and  nearing 
the  summit  where  after  our  exertion  a  towering  elm 
invites  us  to  halt  our  footsteps  and  enjoy  agreeable 
repose  beneath  its  protecting  shade.    Looking  upwards, 
we  discover  that  its  robust  spreading  branches  sustain 
an  extensive  and  luxuriant  grapevine.     We  observe 
more  closely  an.l  discover  that   the  tendrils  of  the 
weakling  vine  have  laid  firm  hold  upon  the  body  and 
limbs  of  the  giant  oak  and  ambitiously  climbed  above 
the  topmost  branches  to  expose  its  large  clusters  of 
luscious  grapes  to  the  clearer  air  and  the  ripening  rays 
of  the  autumnal  sun.     Without  mental  effort  it  dawns 
upon  us  that  we  are  all  vines  and  oaks  in  turns ;  we  forci- 
bly realize  that  if  our  places  in  life  be  that  of  the  vine— 
in  the  lowly  and  dependent  places  of  lite  spintuaUy 
and  temporally— we  must  not  be  content  to  stay  down 
—we  must  not  be  content  with  unfruitful  low  levels. 
The  pathway  of  life  abounds  in  towering  elms  in  the 
spiritual  order,  and  that,  like  the  fruitful  vine,  we 
must  seek  out  and  lay  hold  of,  nor  rest  content  until 
we  at  least  reach  fructifying  heights  and  obtain  fruitful 
results  in  abundance— like  the  vine  we  must  not  be 
content  to  remain  indifferent  and  inactive  upon  the 


The  Oldkst  Book  in  thk  Woblu. 


2(S8 


fj^und — the  lower  walks  of  life — to  be  trampled  upon 
and  prevented  from  doing  well  onr  allotted  task  in  thn 
world  for  our  own  credit  and  benefit,  the  greater  wel- 
fare of  our  fellow  man,  and  our  etemrl  salvation.  We 
observe  how  the  seeming  helpless  vine  put  forth  enter- 
prise to  seek  out  and  energy  to  seize  up<jn  its  opportunity 
and  lay  hold  upon  the  towering  oak  and  make  nse  of 
its  kindly  oftices  to  attain  to  a  higher  plane  than  did 
its  supporting  benefactor  where  it  fully  attained  the 
purpose  of  its  existence. 

It  also  stands  out  iu  our  minds  as  boldly  and  clearly 
as  the  noonday  that  the  robust,  gnarled  oak — towering, 
sturdy,  a  king  among  the  trees  and  seemingly  conscious 
of  its  own  strength,  dignity  and  importance  in  the 
forest — did  not  spurn  the  advances  of  the  weak  and 
lowly  nor  withhold  its  aid  in  bearing  the  burdens  of 
the  hopeless,  helpless  vine.  Herein  we  read  the  good- 
ness and  mercy  of  God  who  commanded  the  strong  to 
be  merciful  to  the  weak  and  assist  them  to  bear  their 
burdens.  In  early  times  Ood  commanded  Moses  to 
associate  with  liimself  seventy  of  the  aucients,  saying : 
"1  will  take  of  the  spirit,  and  will  give  to  tliem,  that 
they  may  bear  with  the  burden  of  the  people,  and  thou 
may  not  be  burthened  alone."  Numbers  xi:  17.  In 
the  New  Testament  we  read  in  the  inspired  words  of 
St.  Paul  when  instructing  and  exhorting  the  people  of 
Ualatia:  "Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens,"  Galatians 
vi :  2.  This  highest  doctrine  of  sympathy  and  aid  is 
but  another  form  of  the  command  of  the  Master  "  That 
ye  love  one  another,"  and  "  The  greatest  of  these  is 
Charity."  Again  the  elm  typifies  the  grace  and  mercy 
of  God  ever  a  tower  of  strength  and  love  to  sustain  the 
burdens  of  all — grace  and  mercy  more  abundant  and 


364  Gatkkbsd  Waiflktb. 

available  to  erring  and  weakly  ones  than  are  atnrdy 
oaks  to  weakling  vines.  The  powerful  man— the  man 
conscious  of  his  strength  and  importance  may  also 
learn  a  valuable  lesson  in  humility,  right  living,  and 
helpfulness  to  his  fellow  man  by  meditating  upon  the 
lesson  taught  by  the  lordly  elm  to  the  helpless. 

But  the  sun  has  gone  down  beyond  the  western  hills 
and  the  gathering  gloom  now  prevents  further  perusal 
of  the  oldest  book  in  the  world,  but  the  valuable 
lessons  learned  will  long  remain  a  cherished  memory 
and  be  a  great  incentive  to  the  more  faithful  perform- 
ance of  duty.  "The  heavens  show  forth  the  glory  of 
God,  and  the  firmament  declareth  the  work  of  His 
hands,"  Psalms  xviii:l.  "All  ye  works  of  the  Lord, 
bless  the  Lord;  praise  and  exalt  Him  above  all  for- 
ever." Daniel  iii:.')-7.—jlnno/«  of  St.  Anthony'$  Shrine, 
Worcester,  Mais.,  June,  1912, 


'I  ii 


MOOSE  AND  MOOSE  HUNTING  HINTS  FOR 
BUDDING  NIMRODS. 


THE  American  sportsman  who  owes  allegiance  to 
the  stars  and  stripes  finds  much  to  regret  and 
much  to  deplore  when  he  compares  and  contrasts 
the  opening  and  closing  years  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
One  hundred  years  ago  vast  game  regions  stretched  their 
seemingly  endless  extent  in  all  directions  and  game  so 
abounded  in  forest  and  on  prairie  that  its  capture  had 


fptJ 

■II 


M0O8l  AND  MoOHE   Hl'NTINO   HlNTK. 


26r> 


not  reached  the  dignity  of  sport.  Nearing  tlie  cloKe 
of  the  century  tlie  immense  flockH  of  wild  pigoons,  tluit 
in  their  flight  obscured  tlie  sun  as  a  cloud,  and  the 
mighty  herds  of  buffalo  that  roamed  upon  the  western 
plains  in  countless  thousands  have  been  blotted  out 
forever.  Keeping  pace  therewith  the  areas  in  wliioh 
other  big  game  aboundeil  have  Iwen  so  encroached 
upon  and  destroye*!  that  but  little  now  remains  that 
is  accessible  to  the  masses  to  reward  the  enterprise, 
skill  and  pcrserverance  of  the  most  ardent  sportsman 
or  to  reward  his  knowle<lge  and  best  efforts. 

Aside  from  the  very  few  who  visit  the  distant  Rock- 
ies for  an  interview  with  old  Ephraim,  the  mountain 
lion,  or  the  hardy  and  elusive  cliff-climbing  sheep  in 
their  craggy  homes,  a  shot  at  some  member  of  the 
genus  Cervidae  is  about  all  most  sportsmen  who  seek 
big  game  hope  for;  ami  fortunate  indeed  is  he  who  has 
to  grace  his  den  a  handsome  set  of  antlers  of  the  noble 
elk,  the  erratic  caribou,  the  majestic  buck,  or — grand- 
est of  all— the  monarch  of  the  forest,  the  lordly  moose 
killed  in  honorable  combat.  As  might  be  expected,  tliis, 
the  greatest  of  the  deer  family,  is  the  largest  and  rarest 
of  all,  and  as  such  his  pursuit  and  capture  awakens 
the  earnestness  and  stimulates  the  enthusiasm  of  the 
sportsman  to  a  pitch  far  away  ami  beyond  that  of  all 
others.  Many  who  have  stalked  and  killed  the  lesser 
deer  hesitate  to  go  in  pursuit  of  moose,  doubtless  pre- 
vented in  many  cases  by  the  over-painted  pictures  and 
exaggerated  tales  of  the  difficulties,  dangers  and  dis- 
appointments attendant  thereon.  Thrilling  hair- 
breadth escapes  from  the  charging  infuriated  animals, 
so  boastingly  and  persistently  told  in  print  and  orally, 
have  their  principal  foumlation  in  an  abnormal  lively 


26G 


Oatxiebed    Waiflets. 


imagination  and  a  love  for  drawing  tlie  long  bow 
rather  than  in  any  experience  liltely  to  befall  the 
sportsniun  iluring  all  the  hunting  years  that  measure 
the  span  of  a  long  ilfe. 

While  difficulties,  dangers,  accidents  and  disappoint- 
ments are  met  witli  in  every  walk  of  life  tUey  are  not 
more  in  evidence  in  moose  hunting  than  in  other  unal- 
agous  pursuits,  untl  with  ordinary  foresight  and  pru- 
dence they  nuiy  be  reduced  to  a  minimum.  Perhu])s 
an  exception  should  be  made  of  one  difficulty  which 
many  who  would  like  to  pass  a  season  in  the  wilder- 
ness in  pursuit  of  moose  will  find  a  great  if  not  an  im- 
passible barrier  to  surmount— to  provide  the  re(}uisite 
funds  to  pay  the  expenses,  as  moose  hunting  is  quite 
an  expensive  luxury.  For  the  rest,  no  serious  appre- 
hension need  deter  the  experienced  hunter  of  lesser 
game,  or  even  the  novice,  from  undertaking  the  a<lven- 
ture  anc'  ')assing  a  season  of  rare  enjoyment  in  the 
woods  in  the  ih'ep  snows  and  cold  of  winter  far  from 
the  habitations  of  man  in  pursuit  of  the  game  which 
it  is  his  fondest  ambition  to  pursue  and  cai)turo. 
Whatever  of  difficulty  and  inconvenience  formerly 
i'xisteil  has  now  been  largely  overcome  by  niod<^rn 
conditions  and  methods.  Palatial  steamboats  and 
sumptuous  railway  trains  now  luxuriously  and  rapidly 
tran.sport  the  sportsman  and  his  impediments  quite 
near  to  his  ch'stination  where  u  comi)etent  fac-totem 
and  guide  is  in  waiting  to  pilot  1dm  to  a  rough  but 
comfortable  camp  in  the  wilderness  which  is  as  well 
sup|)lied  with  all  the  necessaries  and  luxuries  of 
modern  civilization  as  his  patnm  may  desire  or  liis 
pocket-book  alTord. 

Moose  are  still  found  in  northern  latitudes,  Maine, 


i  !•' 


Moose  and  Moose  Hunting  Hints. 


267 


Canada  and  the  Maritime  Provinces,  and  hither  ^o 
sportsmen  in  pursuit.  Conditions  in  these  different 
places  are  substantially  alike,  and  substantially  the 
same  methods  are  adopted  in  their  pursuit  and  capture. 
It  is  true  that  in  outlying  localities,  and  in  places  not 
snificiently  looked  after  by  those  entrusted  with  the 
enforcement  of  the  game  laws  and  the  protection  of 
game,  lai^e  numbers  of  moose  and  other  of  the  deer 
family  are  shamefully  slaughtered  in  the  deep  snows 
and  disabling  ice  crusts  of  winter;  but  as  the  sportsman 
worthy  of  the  name  would  scorn  to  resort  to  illegal  and 
cruel  methods  to  capture  game  it  is  only  mentioned  here 
to  be  condemned.  Companionship,  however  much 
prized  elsewhere,  is  doubly  valued  and  appreciated  in 
the  woods  and  in  the  camp,  but  too  much  care  and 
circumspection  cannfit  be  exercised  in  selecting  camp- 
ing companions.  Friendships  e.xtending  over  many 
years  in  centres  of  population  have  been  rudely  sun- 
dered when  put  to  the  test  of  a  few  weeks'  life  in 
closest  relationship  in  camp,  the  pleasures  of  the  trip 
marred  or  wholly  destroyed,  and  after  years  embit- 
tered. Campers  of  long  experience  have  often  been 
declared  selfish  and  even  churlish  when  refusing  to 
admit  new  members  to  their  hunting  party,  but  such 
decision  and  practice  is  Vjased  upon  experience  and  its 
wisdom  is  to  be  commended. 

The  tenderfoot  when  planning  for  his  moose  hunt- 
ing trip  can  easily  obtain  desired  information  as  to 
locality,  game  laws,  game  prospects,  e.xpense,  local 
customs  and  conditions,  and  the  like,  from  hand-books 
of  travel  from  some  of  the  many  sportsmen  of  ex- 
perience in  his  city  or  town,  from  some  of  the  vari- 
ous sportsmen's  publications,  bureaus  of  information, 


.(iJ 


S68 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


.  :t 


I 


and  other  sourcts.    He  is  also  to  decide  which  method 
of  hunting  he  propoBes  to  adopt,— whether  by  caUing 
or  BtiU  hunting— as  this  is  governed  by  the  season. 
Let  us  hope  that  his  time  is  at  his  own  disposal  and 
that  he  wisely  decides  upon  the  ideal  method  of  manly 
still  hunting  to  vindicate  his  prowess  and  to  secure  his 
coveted   trophy.      For  successful   stiU  hunting    the 
ground  should  be  covered  with  a  sufficient  depth  of 
dry,  fluffy  or  soft  snow  to  thoroughly  deaden  the  foot 
fall  and  render  travelling  noiseless.     It  is  next  to  im- 
possible to  successfuUy  still  hunt  moose  upon  the  bare 
ground  because  of  the  noise  made  in  travelling,  by  the 
rustling  of  disturbed  leaves,  breaking  sticks,  or  upon 
crusted  snow  for  a  like  reason.     The  best  season  for 
StiU  hunting  moose  varies  in  different  latitudes  and  in 
different  localities.     An  abundance  of  snow  will  be 
found  in  northern  Canada  weeks  in  advance  of  Maine 
and  the  Maritime  Provinces.    Should  the  former  coun- 
try be  decided  upon  the  trip  may  be  made  soon  after 
the  'oen  season  begins,  but  if  it  is  decided  to  go  to 
Maine  or  the  Provinces  U)  the  eastward  it  had  better  be 
deferred  until  the  middle  or  latter  part  of  the  open 
season  to  ensure  the  most  favorable  weather  condi- 
tions and   the  best  prospects  for  getting  the  game 
sought     In  most  cases  blankets,  food,  cooking  uten- 
sils, dishes,  lamps,  lanterns,  axe,  saw  and  other  camp 
necessaries  will  be  furnished  by  the  camp  owner  and 
guide— or  they  wiU  be  if  he  is  so  notified  in  advance 
—thus  saving  his  patron  expense  and  annoyance,  and 
being  "to  the  manner  bom"  he  knows  best  what  is 
needed  and  is  not  likely  to  omit  anything  that  may  be 

required.  . 

StiU  hunting  is  decided  on,  camp  selected,  guide 


Moose  and  Moose  Hunting  Hints. 


269 


engaged,  date  of  dparture  fixed,  now  what  will  the 
novice  require  for  his  personal  outfit?  Of  course  in 
this,  as  in  other  matters,  individual  tastes  vary  much 
and  this  must  be  reckoned  with,  but  right  here 
let  me  say  that  the  greater  the  experience  of  sportsmen 
in  the  woods  the  less  they  take  with  them,  and  yet 
have  all  that  is  needed  for  their  comfort.  Perhaps 
the  most  comprehensive  word  of  advice  to  give  the 
novice  at  the  outset  is  contained  in  the  suggestive  and 
expressive  word — don't.  Don't  consult  the  latest  fash- 
ion plate  and  then  procure  the  sportsman's  garb 
therein  delineated;  don't  carry  a  dress  suit,  collars, 
cufEs,  neckties,  and  perfumery ;  don't  carry  a  packing 
case  filled  with  foot  wear — hip  gum  boots,  short  gum 
boots,  and  the  various  kinds  and  qualities  of  sports- 
men's leather  boots;  don't  carry  sleeping  bags, 
mackintoshes,  umbrellas  or  dressing  slippers ;  don't — 
don't—. 

Keraember  that  the  camp  is  in  an  out-of-the-way 
place  wliere  there  will  be  no  operas,  social  gatherings, 
formal  dinners,  receptions,  or  other  city  functions, 
and  where  if  the  improbable  should  happen  and  the 
latch  string  of  the  camp  be  pulled  by  strangers  they 
wiU  expect  to  find  all  clothed  like  themselves  in  the 
toggery  of  the  woods.  Aside  from  this,  the  trans- 
portation of  what  should  be  taken  into  the  distant 
camp  in  the  wilderness  will  be  found  a  sufficient 
burden  and  every  ounce  of  dispensable  outfit  should 
be  left  behind. 

A  single  woods  suit  of  strong  clothing  is  ample  and 
it  should  be  made  of  cloth  manufactured  from  hard 
spun  wool  which  will  be  the  most  comfortable  and 
best  withstand  the  rough  and  tumble  life  of  the  forest 


i )  j 


^i 


1    m 


270  Gathered   Waiflets. 

and  prove  best  to  resist  the  stonns  of  snow  or  rain 
that  may  be  encountered.    The  coat  should  be  made 
Spencer  style  and  furnished  with  belt  and  plenty  of 
inside  and  outside  pockets— the  outside  pockets  to  be 
provided  with  deep  lapels  to  resist  the  entrance  of 
broken  twigs,  snow  and  the  like.    The  pants  should 
be  very  roomy  in  the  body  part  to  permit  of  stoop- 
ing,  climbing  over  fallen  trees,  and   other  unusual 
postures.     They  should  have  an  opening  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  legs  on  the  outside  and  extending  upward 
nearly  to  the  knees  and  secured  by  spring  buttons. 
This  permits  them  to  be  closely  wrapped  about  the 
ankles  and  legs  without  wrinkling  when  the  outside 
over-stockings  are  drawn  on  and  thus  adding  comfort 
and  protection  to  the  wearer.     Coat,  pants  and  vest 
should  be  sewed  with  very  strong  linen  thread  and  all 
buttons  thoroughly  attached.     For  the  head  a  soft  felt 
hat  with  a  fairly  wide  brim  will  prove  more  satisfac- 
tory than  a  cap  or  other  head  covering.     The  felt  hat 
is  light,  easy  upon  the  head,  protects  the  eyes,  sheds 
snow  or  rain,  prevents  the  snow  that  is  frequently  dis- 
lodged from  overhanging  trees  from  falling  down  the 
neck,  and  in  case  of  camping  out  upon  the  trail  it 
makes  a  very  satisfactory  night  cap.     For  the  hands, 
home-made  woolen  mittens  that  may  be  obtained  at  a 
nominal  price  in  nearly  all  frontier  stores,  having  a 
single  finj^er  for  the  index  finger,  will  be  found  the 
warmest  and  the  most  practical  and  satisfactory.    For 
footwear   nothing   is   superior  to  the  moccasins  and 
pacs  of  primitive  times  for  still  hunting  in  winter. 
Should  the  snow  be  so  deep  as  to  require  snow  shoes, 
they  are  indispensable.     They  are  made  from  leather, 
generally  tanned  locally  for  this  purpose,  and  they 


iriMisE  A.sn  Moose  IIixtino  Hints. 


271 


may  be  purclmsMl  at  ii  very  nominal  price  in  most 
places  wlicTe  moose  are  hunted  unil  their  purchase 
may  well  be  deferred  until  arrival.  They  should  be 
sufficiently  large  to  permit  the  use  of  two  pairs  of 
lieavy  woolen  socks  besides  the  heavy  outside  over 
stockings  which  come  up  to  or  above  the  knees  out 
side  the  pants  where  they  are  fastened  by  straps. 
Feet  thus  protected  will  be  dry  and  warm,  and  no 
hanilicaj)  of  weight  will  he  imposed  upon  the  wearer 
as  is  the  case  with  other  footwear.  Should  the  feet 
of  the  wearer  be  unduly  tender  and  sensitive  to  th(! 
uneven  footing,  addituinal  prot<>ction  is  easily  sup- 
plied by  putting  an  inner-sole  of  heavy  leather,  or,  in 
an  emergency,  of  llexihie  white  birch  bark,  in  the 
bottom  of  the  moccasin.  This  footwear  will  seem  a 
great  innovation  at  first  and  for  a  few  days  particular 
care  will  be  reciuired  in  iilaeing  the  foot  to  prevent 
slipping.  Having  no  heels,  an  unusual  strain  will  bo 
put  upon  the  llexor  iiinseles  and  tendons,  causing  stiff- 
ness and  some  pain,  but  this  will  wear  away  in  a  few- 
days.  An  abundance  of  handkerchiefs,  stockings,  ami 
a  couple  of  suits  of  und<'rwear  will  lie  all  the  other 
clothing  needed.  A  eom|iass,  water  tight  match  bo.v 
and  matches,  a  stout  leather  belt,  a  strong  pocket-knife, 
and  a  hunting  knife  and  sheath  completes  the  outfit 
with  the  exception  of  the  weapon  and  amnmnition.  In 
recent  years  nuich  has  been  said  and  written  for  and 
against  small  bore  rifies,  ami  very  often  contention  has 
waxed  exceedingly  hot.  Summed  U|)  into  a  single  sen- 
tence, it  seems  a  case  of  many  men  and  many  minds. 
.-\n  indivi<lual  makes  a  fortunate  shot  —  it  may  be  by 
skill  and  it  nmy  be  by  chance  —  and  forthwith  he  goes 
into  ecstiieies  over  his  phenominal  weapon  to  which  he 


1 1 


272 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


il'  i 


accords  highest  appreciation  and  superlative  praise. 
Others  have  tried  and  discarded  the  small  bore  and  in 
disgust  have  returned  to  their  first  love  and  resumed 
the  weapon  of  larger  caliber  and  said  nothing  about 
it  —  and  thus  is  fame  and  blame  sustained  and  propa- 
gated. ,    ^ 

It  is  true  that  in  former  times  manufacturers  in- 
sisted and  persisted  in  putting  useless  metal  into  the 
larger  bore  rifles  which  made  them  unwieldy,  cumber- 
some and  a  tiresome  load  to  carry.    This  was  protested 
against  by  users,  but  the  protest  was  unheeded,     il^e 
time  was  ripe  for  improvement  -  the  small  bore  nfle 
appeared  and  at  once  jumped  into  popular  favor. 
The  nitro-powder  cartridge  was  also  a  step  in  the 
same  direction  and  it  also  quickly  became  a  PopuJ" 
favorite.    Heavy  rifles  were  rapidly  discarded  and  the 
popular  refrain  in  behalf  of  the  small  bore  and  mtro 
ammunition  grew  in  volume  and  intensity.    The  manu- 
facturers of  heavy  rifles  awoke  from  their  lethargy 
and  indifference  and  made  great  efforts  to  meet  the 
popular  rival  bv  reducing  the  unnecessary  weight  of 
their  weapons  an  J  supplying  nitro  ammunition  for 
their  use.     On  the  score  of  weight  and  ammumtion 
there  is  now  but  little  choice -it  is  largely  caliber 
versus  caliber  between  the  admirers  of  each,  with 
no  likelihood  of  an  ex-cathedra  decision  ever  being 

reached.  .  , 

For  long  distance  shooting  the  initial  velocity  of 
the  small  bore  bullet  is  in  its  favor,  but  as  few  shots 
are  ever  obtained,  when  still  hunting  moose,  at  greater 
distance  than  one  hundred  yards  this  advantage  is 
more  theoretical  and  academical  than  real  and  prac- 
tical     Bullets  for  all  calibers  can  be  had  that  will 


MoosB  AND  Moose  Hunting  Hints.         273 

mushroom  by  impact  so  there  is  no  advantage  on  this 
score  for  the  swifter  speeding  smaU  caliber  bullet. 
The  impact  or  blow  from  the  larger  and  heavier  bul- 
let must  be  more  destructive  and  overpowering  tlian 
the  smaller  and  lighter  bullet  and  its  increased  killing 
zone  should  commend  it  to  the  sportsman  who  desires 
to  make  a  clean  kill  in  preference  to  inflicting  a 
wound  that  will  result  in  a  lingering  death  after  the 
game  has  gone  beyond  his  reach.  The  man  who 
drives  home  a  railway  spike  does  not  use  a  tack  ham- 
mer, nor  does  the  man  who  drives  a  carpet  tack  use  a 
sledge  hammei--each  uses  an  implement  in  proportion 
to  the  work  performed. 

A  favorite  weapon  with  many  experienced  sports- 
men and  guides,  and  one  which  many  have  again  re- 
sumed after  giving  small  bore  rifles  extended  trial  on 
l)ig  game,  is  a  modified  form  of  the  old  time  4.'')-7()— 
round  barrel,  twenty-four  to  twenty-six  inches  long, 
half-magazine,  shot  gun  butt,  Lyman  ivory  bead  front 
and  adjustable  peep  rear  sight,  and  weigliing  about 
seven  pounds.  Xitro  or  black  powder  cartridges  may 
be  used  if  preferred,  and  with  solid,  soft  nose,  hollow 
or  split  pointed  bullets  it  is  a  formidable  weapon  at 
short  range.  It  is  light  and  easily  carried,  the  barrel 
being  short  it  is  handy  in  the  woods,  not  nearly  so 
liable  to  get  the  muzzle  full  of  snow  when  carrying 
it  with  extended  arm  or  when  ascending  hills  or  moun- 
tain sides.  Properly  aimed  and  held  it  will  not  disap- 
point when  put  to  the  test  and  the  successful  sportsman 
will  gladly  accord  it  the  place  of  honor  upon  the  hand- 
some antlers  in  his  den  that  it  secured  for  their  proud 
owner. 


i  ««# 


PARADOXES  AND  SPORT. 


HAD  it  been   bo   ordained  that   onr  psth^-r 
through  life  would  be  marked  by  an  nn»   id- 
ing  ball  of  thread,  what  devious  pathway 
would  be  revealed  on  attaining  the  summit  of  life, 
and  how  difficult  the  task  of  retracing  our  footsteps ! 

And  could  we  scan  the  tortuous  unwinding  of  our 
mental  footsteps,  would  we  not  be  confronted  with 
many  inconsistencies  and  paradoxes  that  highest  phil- 
osophy could  not  explain  nor  harmonize  2 

The  toddling  boy  on  his  way  to  school  pelts  the 
frogs  with  pebbles,  and  therein  finds  superktive  joy; 
his  older  brother  climbs  a  tree  and  robs  the  helpless 
mother  of  her  callow  brood,  and  finds  pleasure  in  ex- 
hibiting his  booty  to  his  envious  and  admiring  com- 
panions: and  the  beardless  youth  about  to  exchange 
the  pulpy  adolescence  of  immaturity  for  the  less  mo- 
bile material  of  manhood  finds  keenest  diversion  in 
setting  miles  of  snarw  to  capture  the  unsuspecting 
grouse. 

Childhood,  boybwod  and  youth  vanish  with  the  fleet- 
ing years,  and  pebbles  and  snares  give  place  to  rod  and 
gun — engines  of  greater  destruction,  and  more  relent- 
less. Waters  are  vexed  and  forests  overrun,  and 
satiety  is  still  beyond  the  horizon;  the  highest  peak 
is  no  barrier,  and  the  ice  fields  of  the  frigid  north  do 
not  repel;   man  armed  with  the  implements  of  death 


Paradoxes  and  Sport.  27.1 

ever  continneg  the  work  of  degtniction  dnrinB  all  his 
active  years. 

The  boy  who  pelted  the  froga  has  now  ascended  the 
steps  to  the  heights  of  opulence,  and  purchased  the 
flshiDK  rights  at  a  fabulous  price  in  some  famous  sal- 
mon  stream,  and  now  with  all  the  ardor  of  exalted 
manhood  he  contemplates  with  disdain  and  launches 
nnkind  epithets  and  vehement  anathemas  upon  aU  who 
must  be  content  with  lesser  sport;   the    'der  brother 
has  long  since  exchanged  his  hundreds-perhaps  hi, 
thonsands-of  dollars  for  a  membership  in  some  mil. 
Iionaire  ducking  club,  and  now  learnedly  discourses 
upon   th..  ethics  of  sp^vrtgmanship  and   the   higher 
branches  thereof,  and  he  has  only  contemptuous  sneers 
and  severest  deminciatious  for  those  with  a  smaller 
bank  account,  au.l  who  per  force  must  be  content  with 
more  humble  sport,  while  he  and  his  companions  wage 
me^^.les3  warfare  upon   the  sea-fowl   when  on  their 
migration  to  their  breeding  grounds  in  the   distant 
north  in  the  early  spring.     The   beardless  youth  in 
after  years  has  'orgotten  all  about  his  grouse  snares 
of  earlier  rrean,  and  he  is  now  foremost  in  the  en- 
deavor to   secure  legislation   against  their  use,  and 
glows  with  enthusiasm   when  relating  his  adventure 
in   the  distant  wilds,  where   in  the  still  evening  of 
autumn  time  he  sent  the  cruel  leaden  messengers  of 
death  through  the  heart  of  the  unsuspecting  lordly 
buU  moose,  lured  into  his  presence  by  the  seductive 
music  of  the  bireh-bark  horn  in  the  hands  of  his  skiU- 
ful  Indian  guide ! 

He  would  resent  with  righteous  indignation  and 
scorn  the  suggestion  that  such  slaughter  savored  of 
butchery,  and  he  doubtless  would  be  heard  above  the 


-lia 


fill 


J     >:U 


27C  Oathkhbd  Waivlkts. 

other*  who  »it  in  judjfmentand  condemnation  of  jack- 
ing deer,  and  with  emphatic  vociferation  loudly  extol 
the  one  while  roundly  denouncing  the  other. 

How  oft,  alas  1  do  the  words  of  the  poet  come  un- 
bidden, and  with  what  force  and  emphasis  do  they 

apply : 

"When  such  occasions  are, 
No  plea  must  serve;  'tis  cruelty  to  spare." 
And  where  is  he  who  wiU  cast  the  first  stone  J  Where 
is  he  who  will  caU  a  halt  ?  Where  is  he  who  wiU  iix 
metes  and  bounds?  And  must  all  find  shelter  and 
protection  under  the  generous  segis  of  the  ethics  of 
sportsmanship^ 

The  boundary  line  is  but  too  often  an  indistinct 
blaised  trail,  leadiug  through  many  a  devious  pathway, 
and  across  which  many  thoughtlessly  wander;  and 
a  generous  chivalry  fonndml  upon  consistency  should 
prompt  a  becoming  modesty  to  withhold  wonis  of  cen- 
sure  and  condemnation  when  they  may  apply  with 
greater  force  to  him  who  utters  them  than  to  the  per- 
son for  whom  intended. 

We  should  not  be  unmindful  of  the  words  of  Alex- 
ander Pope,  written  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago: 
"Pleasure,  or  wrong  or  rightly  understood, 
Our  greatest  evil  or  our  greatest  good." 
—Forest  and  Stream,  New   York,  N.  Y.,  March  .?6, 
1898. 


MASSACHUSETTS  IN  A,  D.  1900. 


DIVEROINCI    PATils. 

WELL,  it  is  just  this  way.  You  know  Massa- 
chusetts has  the  only  "blarney  stone"  in 
America.  It  got  its  reputation  some  cen- 
turies back  by  the  landing  thereabout,  thereat  or 
thereon  of  a  mi.st  wonderful  people  who  brought 
with  them  all  the  virtues  of  all  the  ages,  and  also  rare 
and  valuable  curios  au  '  heirlooms  from  England  and 
the  factory  villages  of  HoUand,  where  they  worked  in 
the  woolen  mills— sufficient  at  this  distant  day  to 
make  several  ship  loads. 

But  this  story  is  a  different  tale.  What  I  want  to 
say  is  that  Massachusetts  has  been  peopled  nigh  on  to 
30U  years  and  has  now  a  population  of  over  8,000,0(10 
upon  her  7,800  square  miles  of  territory.  Men  of 
hasty  judgment  might  therefore  conclude,  in  view  of 
this  long  period  of  settlement,  limited  area  and  dense 
population,  that  the  sportsman  could  find  but  little 
enjoyment  with  bird  dog,  gun  and  rod,  but  little  to 
tempt  his  effort  or  reward  his  skill— but  here  again 
syllogistic  reasoning  would  be  at  fault  and  such  con- 
clusions far  from  the  truth. 

It  is  true  that  large  game  is  no  longer  found  within 
her  boundaries,  nor  is  the  lordly  salmon  taken  in  the 
waters  of  the  State ;  but  the  smaller  varieties  of  game 
-  fur,  fin  and  feather— still  abound  in  large  variety 
and  fairly  generous  in  quantity  throughout  the  State. 


?'t 


MICIOCOfY   HSOIUTION   IISI  CHADT 

lANSr  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No,  2) 


A     APPLIED  IM^GE     In, 


w 


S78 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


More  fox  pelts  are  taken  annually  than  any  but  the 
initiated  would  believe.  Coons  furnish  keenest  zest 
for  another  large  contingent.  Hares,  rabbits  and  gray 
squirrels  allure  many.  Others  pursue  the  mink,  musk- 
rat  and  sable,  and  occasionally  an  otter  gives  up  his 
valuable  coat  of  fur  to  a  more  fortunate  hunter, 
who  becomes  an  envied  one  in  the  guild  of  sports- 
men. 

For  rufled  grouse,  the  king  of  game  birds,  no  State 
in  the  Union  furnishes  better  coverts,  and  as  for  food 
no  succession  of  varied  mast  or  more  generous  in 
quantity  exists  elsewhere. 

Birch,  apple,  poplar  and  other  buds  for  midwinter 
food,  partridge  berries,  bunch  berries,  blueberries, 
huckleberries,  blackberries,  wild  grapes,  apples,  thorn 
apples,  chestnuts,  acorns  and  other  food  in  abundance 
throughout  the  year.  Water  there  is  also  in  the  numer- 
ous rivers,  brooks,  ponds  and  reservoirs,  and  dense 
growths  of  scrub  oak,  chestnut,  pine  and  other  decidu- 
ous and  coniferous  trees  and  shrubs  for  isolation  and 
protection,  furnish  an  ideal  environment  in  which  they 
rapidly  propagate  and  multiply,  and  where,  despite  the 
great  slaughter  wrought  by  the  pot-hunter  and  the 
snares  of  the  grangers'  sons,  they  are  yet  found  in 
large  numbers. 

Then  there  are  the  upland  plover,  woodcock,  quail, 
snipe  and  all  the  tribe  of  marsh  and  shore  birds,  besides 
the  migrating  sea-fowl,  to  lend  variety  and  charm  and 
to  well  reward  an  outing  with  dog  and  gun. 

But  I  set  out  to  tell  of  a  day  with  rod  and  creel,  but 
a  short  time  ago,  which,  with  a  couple  of  friends,  I 
spent  beside  a  babbling  trout  brook  not  far  distant 
from  the  Heart  of  the  Commonwealth  in  the  good  Old 


Massachusetts  m  a.  d. 


191  JO. 


270 


S-S;!'^"'"'"  "«-  «'-^^^«  °«  i"  -other 
n«  c^fK  \,  '  "™^^  *""^''«'"  ■"  them  now  so  let 

the  aiT  and  senddin,  ciXhv^  tl  SeT  J 

wind  suggest  refreshing  showers.  ^  "**■ 

ihe  catkins  upon  the  willows  have  burst  fm™  fi.  ■ 


^.1 


280 


Gathered  WAtFiEis. 


would  return  to  him  at  nnon  time  for  lunch,  it  then 
being  it  o'clock.  The  brook  was  industriously  whip- 
ped, and  not  without  success,  until  the  nooning  hour. 
A  goodly  showing  of  the  superlatively  beautiful  trout 
were  displayed  upon  the  grass  when  all  gathered  at 
the  pool,  to  which  our  convalescent  friend  contributed 
a  generous  number  as  his  reward  for  three  hours' 
patient  fishing. 

Being  somewhat  tired  after  my  tramp  and  effort,  I 
sat  down  upon  the  opposite  bank,  and  more  to  while 
away  the  time  and  to  appear  social  than  with  any  ex- 
pectation of  capturing  a  prize,  I  cast  into  the  pool,  and 
soon  lauded  a  trout  which  measured  fourteen  inches 
and  weighed  one  pound  and  two  ounces.  After  eating 
our  lunch  and  spending  a  half  hour  in  recounting  the 
pleasures  and  adventures  of  the  day,  I  again  essayed 
the  pool,  and  to  my  surprise  and  delight  soon  landed 
my  record  trout  for  the  brooks  of  Massachusetts.  He 
measured  eighteen  inches  in  length  and  weighed  two 
pounds  ten  ounces  seven  hours  after  his  capture. 

Receiving  hearty  congratulations  from  my  compan- 
ions, well  satisfied  with  our  outing  and  success,  we 
turned  our  steps  homeward,  proud  to  know  that  at  the 
dawn  of  the  twentieth  century  hillside  and  dale,  covert 
and  marsh,  upland  and  sea  shore,  were  still  the  home 
of  such  variety  and  quantity  of  fur  and  feathered 
game,  and  that  little  trout  brooks  which  the  fisherman 
may  readily  stand  astride  of  in  the  old  and  densely 
populated  State  of  Massachusetts  still  contain  such 
trout  to  attract  and  reward  the  patient  and  persistent 
angler  who  knows  their  htiunta.— Forest  and  Stream, 
June  2,  1900. 


BIG  GAME  HUNTING. 


i 


ECHOES   FROM    NEW    BBtlNSWtCK. 

SINCE  returning  with  my  moose  from  New  Bmns- 
w.ck  last  season  my  mail  has  brought  me  many 
inquiries   from  widely  different  parts  of  our 
country  .n  relation  to  the  Province  and  other  subjectT 

about  th  ^   ""■*'*'•'   "'  *"«  artiele-inqS 

about  the  country,  its  people,  game  laws,  game,  routes 
conveyances,  expense,  prospects  for  gett  ng  bi^  gama 
and  many  other  things  about  which  fnforiTtfon 
would  likely  be  sought  by  amateui.  and  sp  :  men 
of  experience  in  the  wilderness  after  big  game  who 

t'Ser''  T'^P^''*-^  »  *rip  to  a  Strang  count^ 
together  with  running  comments  thereon. 

To  answer  all  has  taken  much  time,  butaU  have  had 
answer,  as  will  any  others  which  may  follow  but 
thinking  that  the  subject  might  be  of  interelt'  and 
possibly  suggestive  and  helpful  to  many  more  Cho 

liberty  to  ask  for  it,  it  has  seemed  to  me  best  to  state 

Ss  Ob  e  T'''*  °"'"'*'^'  '•'^  ^'^*  °f  *J>«  -• 

thereto  '  "      "'""'"^'''^  """^^  "d  the  replies 

To  most  sportsmen  in  the  United  States  New  Bruns- 
wick IS  a  geographical  entity  only-a  smaU  spot  upon 


t 


282 


Oathehbd  Waifiets. 


f " 


the  map  of  the  Contiuent,  easily  covered  by  the 
thumb — and  what  can  such  a  dot  contain  that  would 
attract  or  interest  them? 

The  old  adige  has  it  "Nothing  is  great  gave  by 
comparison;"  and  what  is  such  an  insignificant  area 
in  comparison  to  the  seeming  endless  expansion  of  ter- 
ritory to  the  west  and  southwest? 

Some  who  have  written  to  me  complainingly  say 
that  while  it  ought  to  be  of  us  and  with  us,  it  is  not — 
that  it  flies  and  seeme  loyal  to  a  foreign  flag  that  was 
lowered  to  the  Stars  and  Stripes  on  American  soil 
more  than  a  hundred  years  ago,  and  that  they  have  no 
naore  love  for  it  to^lay  and  what  it  symbolizes  than 
did  their  stout-hearted  forbears  in  '76,  and  while  they 
would  like  to  sample  its  fish  and  game,  these  convic- 
tions and  sentiments  are  difficult  to  overcome  or  sup- 
press, and  their  constant  out-cropping  would  make 
them  iU  at  ease  in  such  environment. 

And  others  again,  writing  from  a  distance,  inquire 
if  the  Province  is  not  too  far  away,  the  game  too  dii- 
flcult  of  access,  and  if  the  Government  does  not  main- 
tain too  great  surveillance  over  visiting  sportsmen, 
and  if  it  has  not  too  much  inquisition,  inspection, 
overhauling  of  baggage,  collecting  of  customs,  too 
high  a  license  fee  for  hunting  big  game,  too  stringent 
game  laws,  and  if  the  guides  are  not  prompted  by  Gov- 
ernment officials  and  prominent  sportsmen  to  extort 
outrageous  fees  for  very  poor  service  and  the  most 
primitive  and  indifferent  accommodations  ? 

And  many  have  come  to  think — and  have  so  ex- 
pressed themselves—  at  they  seem  to  hear  "You 
must!  You  must!"  echoed  and  re-echoed  by  every 
passing  broeze;  and  when  you  tell  a  son  of  Uncle  Sam 


Bio  Game  Huntiho.  28» 

-You  mn8t!"-well,  there  i,  an  excellent  chance  for 
an  argument,  and  at  best  a  disagreement. 

And  others  express  them-selves  as  expecting  to  see 
f  they  ever  arrive  in  New  Krunswick  £.  s.  d  embla- 
^oned  upon  every  leaf  an.l  impressed  upon  every  snow 
flake,  an,i  a  stand-and-deliver  command  from  every  per- 
son  whose  services  might  be  required, 
dn  M  "^"i,"  "'•'«'«  '"^°"t  that  they  are  incrednlous- 
cram"^  J   p""""'  ^"  *°  «P-k-who   believe  the 

are  but  the  old  gIad.hand.song.and<Iance  act  put  forth 
to  inveigle  them  out  of  their  money,  and  which  are  so 
much  in  evidence  elsewhere. 

These  stated  generaUy,  and  some  of  them  verbatim 
are  among  the  more  prominent  complaints  and  objec! 
tions  as  they  have  come  to  me,  and  asking  for  my  per- 
sonal  experience  in  relation  thereto,  especially  in  so  far 
as  It  woul.l  tend  to  their  confirmation,  modification 
explanation  or  denial.  '<-ai:ion, 

A  surprising  fact  in  relation  to  these  in.iuiries  im- 
pressed  me  with  singular  force-not  one  was  received 
from  a  man  who  hunted  moose  by  calling,  or  who 
defended  the  practice.  On  the  contrary  seve^l 
denounced  this  method  as  heartless,  cold-blooded 
butchery,  unsportsmanlike,  and  which  should  not  have 
ofiicial  sanction  in  any  civilised  country  at  the  dawn 
of  the  twentieth  century. 

Grouping  and  condensing  my  answers,  they  were 
given  substantially  as  subjoined. 

There  is  no  place  in  the  Western  Hemisphere  of 
equal  or  even  much  larger  area,  and  probably  not  In 
the  world,  especially  so  near  centers  of  population 
and  ease  of  access,  so  abounding  in  extensive  forests 


I, 


284 


Gathered  Waiplbts. 


i- 


(about  ten  millions  of  acres  of  wilderness,  the  natural 
home  of  moose  and  caribou),  that  wiU  at  all  compare 
with  New  Brunswick,  nor  which  can  truthfully  boast 
of  as  much  bi)^  game  to  the  square  mile. 

Deer  are  not  yet  much  in  evidence,  although  men 
of  observation  and  experience,  and  who  are  in  the  best 
position  to  judge,  aver  that  they  are  rapidly  increas- 
ing in  numbers. 

For  deer  alone  New  Brunswick  does  not  compare 
favorably  with  Maine;  for  caribou  only  Newfoundland 
is  far  superior;  but  for  the  lordly  moose,  the  object  of 
the  Eastern  sportsmen's  highest  ambition,  and  caribou, 
neither  alone  "or  both  together  are  so  sure  to  reward 
the  effort  as  a  trip  to  the  wilderness  and  barrens  of 
New  Brunswick. 

The  subject  not  being  now  under  consideration,  we 
will  not  allude  to  the  number  and  quality  of  her 
famous  trout  streams  or  her  many  salmon  rivers  of 
world-wide  fame. 

To  the  objection  of  distance  and  difficulty  of  access 
answer  was  made  that  many  sportsmen  in  the  United 
States  do  not  tind  a  trip  to  the  land  of  perpetual  winter 
within  the  arctic  circle,  to  the  glaciers  of  Aln^ika,  to  the 
summit  of  the  Himalayas,  or  to  the  jungles  of  India, 
too  far  away,  as  presenting  too  many  obstacles  to  sur- 
mount, or  an  outlay  of  time  and  money  that  is  prohib- 
itive ;  nor  the  presence  of  an  alien  flag  or  different  laws 
and  customs  an  intolerant  or  repelling  obstacle. 

Certainly  such,  and  individuals  with  the  right  stuff 
in  them,  will  not  find  a  trip  to  any  of  the  maritime 
provinces  other  than  a  school-boy  experience  in  com- 
parison. 

Then  again,  the  real  sportsman,  the  sportsman  de- 


Bio  Gamb  Huntino.  286 

serving  the  name,  h  a  gentleman,  respecting  and 
respected,  tolerant  and  tolerated.  Being  keen  of  ob- 
servation having  a  nell-informed  and  weU-balanced 
mind,  and  positive  convictions,  if  you  wiU_he  knows 
and  respects  the  rights  and  feelings  of  others,  and  his 
good  breeding  and  manly  training  prompt  him  to  care- 
fuUyavoKl  all  mooted  questions  of  religion,  country, 
politics  and  the  like,  as  becomes  a  gentleman  and 
cosmopolite;  and  to  such  a  sportsman  will  be  extended 
a  warm  welcome  and  the  right  hand  of  fellowship 
whenever  he  visits  New  Brunswick. 

But  there  are  sportsmen  and  sportsmen.  Sports- 
manship is  a  very  loose  term,  and  it  is  so  indefinite 
and  elastic  as  to  permit  many,  very  nany,  to  masquer- 
ade  under  Its  guise  who  are  no  credit  to,  and  who  should 
be  refused  feUowship  in,  the  guild.  This  is  nowhere 
bener  known  and  appreciated  than  in  Kew  Brunswick 
1  his  element  her  people  do  not  want,  and  they  are 
not  timid  or  backward  in  saying  so;  and  if  her  laws 
and  customs  prevent  their  coming,  then  are  her  laws 
and  customs  very  satisfactory  to  themselves. 

I  was  Tnf.,rmed  by  several  of  the  leading  citizens  in 
government  station,  prominent  people  and  guides,  thai 
his  was  one  of  the  ends  aimed  at  in  the  enactment  of 
her  fish  and  game  laws-the  other  being  the  propaga- 
tion,  development,  protection  and  conservation  of  their 
iish  and  game. 

Tlie  people  generaUy  in  station  high  or  humble  are 
frank  in  their  avowal  that  they  do  not  propose  to  have 
their  country  overrun,  and  their  fish  and  game  destroyed 
and  possibly  exterminated,  as  they  have  been  in  many 
places  in  our  own  country  by  such  an  army  as  is  at- 
tracted to  other  places  by  managers  of  railroads,  pro- 


286 


Gatiikficd  Waiflktm. 


it  j 


prietoin  of  hotels,  camp  owners  and  ((nides,  and  whose 
shameful  and  unlimited  killinf;  is  invited,  applauded 
and  advertised  to  swell  its  ever  and  rapidly  growing 
numbers. 

The  fish  and  game  of  New  Rrunawick  belong  to  her 
people,  and  who  will  question  their  right  to  name  the 
conditions  under  which  they  may  betaken  by  residents 
and  non-residents  i 

If  such  conditions  as  are  imposed  are  not  satisfac- 
tory to  non-residents  they  may  stay  at  home  or  go 
elsewhere,  and  no  one  will  complain.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  a  wise  foresight  protects,  develops  and  perpetu- 
ates this  big  gaij  e,  prized  trout  and  lordly  salmon, 
will  any  one  with  the  head  and  heart  of  a  man  not 
approve!  And  if  her  laws  and  customs  exclude  this 
army  of  destruction,  then  are  not  her  laws  and  cus- 
toms to  be  commended  and  continued  in  the  interest 
of  higher  and  better  sportsmanship  and  the  conserva- 
tion of  her  flsh  and  game  ? 

The  question  of  a  high  license  fee  may  be  regarded 
as  involved  in  and  sufficiently  answered  by  the  forego- 
ing; but  should  it  seem  unjustified  to  some,  I  have 
asked  if  when  two  weeks'  time  are  taken  for  a  trip  to 
the  woods  in  midwinter  after  the  big  game,  and  possi- 
bly the  only  two  weeks  for  recreation  and  recuperation 
available  during  the  twelve  months  of  the  year,  when 
traveling  expenses,  supplies,  guides  and  the  many  other 
little  necessaries  have  been  paid  for,  is  it  not  better  to 
pay  the  added  expense  of  a  license  and  be  reasonably 
sure  of  getting  what  you  go  for,  than  to  go  elsewhere 
and  save  this  expense  and  be  reasonably  certain  of  not 
getting  what  you  go  for? 

And  this,  it  seems  to  me,  is  a  correct  sizing  up  of  the 


Hi«  Gajik  IIuntino.  2^7 

HitU8tH,n,«ndafullju«tific«tion„fthelicen8ef«ec.l.a«« 

M  the  moo»e  country  of  New  Brunswick,  with  almost 

any  apo  op  for  a  guide  to  sho«     ■  ■«  the  lay  0^ 

Jin,    and  how  best  to  get  to  and  fro-  your  camp  ami 

speUed  with  capitals,  intervenes  between  you  and  your 

derbir""'^ '""  '""'^- '"- "-'""  -  -^■ 

Your  success  or  failure  Mill  almost  certainly  deDen.l 

dT«o'tia7rh''"r"''"'"''^--'^ ""« «-"-'  >-«'" 

«iry,  so  that  he  leaves  rustle;  if  it  don't  rain  weat 
guns;  If  It  don-t  sleet;  if  the  snow  don't ThawTnd 
hen  freeze  and  form  a  crust;  in  fine,  should  yon  be 
avore.,  with  good  weather  and  especidly  with'a  dn. 

a  good  stiff  wind  accompany  the  latter  and  make  the 
trees  creak  and  groan  and  the  limbs  rattle-then  the 
big  moose  you  sought  for  without  avail  elsewhere  for 
so  many  years  IS  atyour  mercy,an<l  steady  nerv>  .nd 
careful  aim  will  certainly  make  him  yours 

In  New  Brunswick  you  wiUnot  find  the  tidy  camps 
good  service  and  skiUed  guides  of  the  AdirondaX 
Maine,  and  other  leading  sportsmen's  resorts,  and  this 
wiU  serve  to  remind  and  impress  upon  you  the  truth 
and  force  of  the  old  French  saying,  "fhacque  pays  a 
sa  guise.  •  Certain  it  is  e^  ery  country  and  every  pe<^ 
pie  have  their  peculiar  ways  and  customs,  and  New 
Brunswick  is  no  exception. 

The  tidy  peeled  spruce  log  caoins,  cooking  stoves 
furniture,  comfortable  beds  and  other  features  of  cm! 
ization  met  with  elsewhere,  here  give  w-ay  to  the  can 
vas  tent,  the  bark  lean-to,  bough  beds  upon  the  earth 
and  cooking  before  and  over  the  open  outdoors  fire. 


'  ■; 


i  I. 


*  i 


S88 


Gathered  Waifleth. 


What  the  ((nides  lack  in  skill  and  efficiency  is  com- 
penRatetl  for  in  a  measure  by  faithfal  service  ohee^ 
fully  and  promptly  rendered.  And  what  if  the  sports- 
man is  introduced  to  a  new  and  more  robust  and  ad- 
venturous experience  1 — thrown  a  little  more  upon  his 
own  resources  i     Flas  it  not  its  advantaf^esi 

The  examination  of  baf^f^age,  payment  of  customs 
dues  and  other  formalities,  are  no  more  onerous  or 
burdensome  when  goinf;  to  the  maritime  provinces 
than  when  going  to  any  other  foreign  country;  and  the 
sportsman  from  the  United  Htates  must  not  forget 
that  his  own  country  may  be  the  most  strict  and  exact- 
ing in  this  regard. 

I  have  many,  very  many  times  Ciossed  the  border, 
and  temporari  y  sojourned  in  the  Dominion  of  Canada, 
and  I  bear  niost  willing  testimony  to  the  uniform 
courtesy  and  forbearance  of  railway  and  Government 
officials,  and  their  efforts  to  discharge  their  duties  in 
the  most  formal  and  least  objectionable  manner  possi- 
ble. 

If,  when  you  are  making  your  toilet,  you  see  the  re- 
flection of  a  gentleman  in  the  looking-glass,  rest  assured 
you  will  meet  in  your  travels  many  as  clearly  entitled 
to  that  designation,  not  only  in  public  station,  but  also 
in  the  many  other  walks  of  life,  and  your  reasonable 
expectations  are  not  likely  to  suffer  disappointment. 

I  have  no  special  interest  in  any  steamship  line, 
railway,  hotel,  camp-owner  or  guide,  and  so  may  be 
excused  from  following  the  too  frequent  custom  of 
paying  remitted  bills  and  favors  received  by  cheap 
advertising.  The  usual  folders,  hand-books  of  travel, 
sportsman's  journals  and  other  sources  of  information 
are  easily  available  to  all  who  may  contemplate  a  trip 


Bio  Gamk  IIuntimo.  j|8B 

to  thU  attraetive  country;  bat  ehoul.l  more  exten.le,! 
..  -pec,flc,nform«ti„„  U  .le««,d  a  letter  of  innVi,^ 
-d.Ire.e.1  to  the  (>„w„  Un.U  department.  vZZ 
2.\  u"  •;:  *''"  ^'"'''  ''""'«  <-'"mn,i««ioner,  St. 
;  n  A'  "••"•'"  r''"'"^  '.rin^aJl  needled  inW 
tioD.~f  ore,l  and  Stream,  January  37,  1900. 


PI40SPKCTIi\(}  FOR  ^N'OODCOCK  IX  MAS8A. 

C'iiusf:TTs. 


IN  upkn.h?ame  bird  shooting,  the  golden  plover- 
the  earliest  migrant-the  erratic  Wilson  snipe.the 

each  Zt    r^  '*'"'"'.  "V  *''"  "■"'>■  '•"«'"' »'"""««  have 
each  their  adm.rere  who  have  not  been  slow  to  sing 

l^irrr  n'T^'''""*'^  »•"*  *'  «"««  without  say 
o  a  day  a-field  no  b.rd  of  them  all  in  such  a  general 
favonte  as  tins  lover  of  bog  and  brake  and  fern  lands, 
of  birch  an.l  alder  growths  beside  ninning  brooks  and 
>n  the  marge  and  ooze  of  swampy  places-the  Ameri- 
can  woodcock,  the  Philohela  Minor  of  naturalists. 

To  the  nations  of  the  world  Greece  is  not  so  weU 
known  by  her  triumphs  in  literature  and  art-bv  the 
inspiration  of  Homer  and  the  genius  of  Phidias  and 
the  galaxy  of  unnumbered  lesser  lights  whose  achieve- 
ments  have  adorned  the  civilization  of  the  world  and 
been  the  wonder  and  admiration  of  sages  and  scholars 


I'  ! 


290 


Gatherkd  Waiflbts. 


1  I, 


1:1 


for  centuries — as  by  the  long-billed  favorite  of  sports- 
men  and  gourmet,  upon  whom  she  bestowed  the  ornith- 
ological and  Attic  name  Philohela.  Philos-loving, 
Ae2o8-bog;  to  which  has  been  added  the  Latin  word 
Minor,  smaller  or  lesser,  to  distinguish  him  from  his 
European  brother  P.  Major,  larger  or  greater,  and  his 
numerous  cousins  of  the  order  Limicolie,  the  snipe 
family. 

But  another  year  has  grown  apace  and  the  tempered 
snn  tells  that  summer  is  on  the  wane.  Sportsman  and 
bird^log  anxiously  await  the  opening  day  of  the  gun- 
ning season  with  the  coming  of  September,  but  a  vig- 
orous manhood  and  love  for  shooting  on  the  wing  and 
attendant  pleasures  make  the  day  seem  long  distant 
and  prompts  an  observation  run  to  old  and  familiar 
haunts  to  note  the  prospects  for  a  successful  opening 
day. 

An  old  friend  of  many  adventures  in  upland  and 
sea-fowl  shooting,  and  after  big  game  in  Maine  and 
the  Maritime  Provinces,  a  man  of  rare  erudition  and  a 
delightful  boon  companion,  dropped  into  my  sanctum 
to  while  away  a  reminiscent  evening  and  to  plan  for 
the  future.  A  day  was  soon  settled  on  when  we  were 
to  take  a  run  into  the  country  for  this  purpose,  to  the 
foot  hills  of  old  Wachusett  some  dozen  or  more  miles 
away — the  highest  elevation  in  Massachusetts  east  of 
the  Connecticut  river  and  dignifled  by  the  name  of 
mountain.  Here  bubbling  springs  and  their  offspring, 
purling  brooks,  and  attendant  conditions  make  an  ideal 
place  for  woodcock  breeding  and  as  a  resting  place  for 
them  during  the  flight  time,  and  here  many  a  time  and 
oft  have  sportsmen  put  in  many  of  their  moat  delight- 
ful and  successful  days  with  dog  and  gun. 


Pbospectino  for  Woodcock. 


291 

matio„"'wT-f"''""u""^  P"^''^"'  of  vJnable  infor- 
mat,on,  which  .«  such  a  delightful  concomitant  of  a 

.ng  the  morning'8  drive  he  became  eloquently  remi- 
Sfotr^^  """^  "^^-"^'  "^  brief^umm^a7of 

fitted°and''tl'*''V^**  the  Mayflower-which  was  out- 
htted  and  the  colonists,  motly  and  otherwise  destined 
for  what  was  afterwards  known  as  "Plimoth  Pw' 
t.on  .rub-staked  by  Merchant  Adven'ut.  To. 
caUed  promoters)  of  England  to  go  forth  to  AmeZ 

eaiVTthr™'  TT  '"p"™"'* "'  ''■^"^w: 

Health  of  the  country,  the  increment  to  be  eqnallv 
dmded  between  the  Adventurers  and  Colonists  Itthe 
end  of  the  contract  period-landed  in  the  harbor  of  Cane 
Cod,  down  t  rough  the  years  that  these  much  va.n  «] 

holes  tt"  ^i!r^  """"'""^  P^«-"-  -  burning 
holes  through  the  tongues  and  cutting  off  the  ears  of 

those  among  them  whose  opinions  on  religious  mat 

ers  differed   from  theirs,  while   claiming  ^thattTey 

came  to  this  country  to  escape  religious  persecution 

through  the  years  that  their  morbid  imaginations   aw 

the  incarnation  of  the  Evil  One  in  thefr  fellow  cTtI 

zens  whom  in  their  persecuting  spirit  they  sin   to 

their  final  account  from  the  end  of  a  halter  as  witches 

through  the  darkened  years  of  English  misrule  an] 

oppression  that  preceded  the  dawn  of  liberty  tha 

mimortahzed  Lexington   and   Concord   and   Bunke 

nessed  the  building  up  of  a  broader,  more  tolemnt 

the  pastiMr''  I'^'^'^^'r''  -^-•"ly  P-J"dices  of 
the  past-Massachusetts  has  ever  commanded,  for  bet. 


iv^ 


393 


Gathebed  Waiflets. 


ir  1: 

i  ; 

I 


ter  or  worse,  her  full  share  of  attention  from  her  sister 
states  of  the  Union  in  her  struf^gle  for  nobler  and 
better  things. 

These  waves  of  advancement  and  retrogression,  of 
elevation  and  depression,  these  nplifts  to  the  pure  air 
of  the  sunlit  hills  and  anon  the  backward  swing  of  the 
pendulum  to  the  noisome  bogs  and  fens  of  the  intol- 
erant, turbulent,  oppressive  and  repellant,  well  typify 
the  broken,  rolling,  unharmonious  topography  of  the 
state.  Here  is  the  intolerant  and  repulsive  marsh — 
the  slough  of  despond  in  the  landscape — that  refuses 
entrance  to  human  footsteps ;  there,  its  antithesis,  the 
clear  and  placid  lake  that  truthfully  mirrors  the  pass- 
ing cloud  as  well  as  the  clear  blue  sky  above  as  if  to 
testify  that  "truth  crushed  to  earth  will  rise  again" — 
and  beyond  lies  the  obstinate,  stony  and  sterile  soil 
that  can  be  subdued  and  rendered  fairly  fruitful  only  by 
seemingly  endless  patience,  sacrifice  and  perseverance. 

Again,  here  is  the  abandoned  farm  that  mutely  tells 
the  tale  of  other  times  and  other  days,  of  unrewarded 
endeavor,  of  deprivations  and  hardships  too  great  to 
be  endured,  and,  possibly,  to  the  want  of  christian 
charity,  kindly  sympathy,  and  neighboi-ly  kindness — 
there,  the  gently  sloping  hillside  shorn  of  its  beauty 
by  the  intolerant  axe  of  tne  greedy  lumberman — and 
beyond,  is  the  mountain  in  calm  repose  and  indiffer- 
ence, seeming  to  look  down  in  disgust  as  if  to  say  to 
all  below  "I  am  holier  than  thou." 

But  the  sportsman,  like  the  poet  and  philosopher 
and  the  people  who  by  keeping  abreast  of  the  times 
have  left  behind  the  narrowness  and  injustice  of  early 
day^,  "Finds  books  in  running  brooks,  sermons  in 
stones,  and  good  in  everything." 


Pkospeotino  for  Woodcock. 


2!»3 
In  his  ontinKs  he  finds  near  the  summit  of  the  bar 
«n  hm-top  the  birthplace  of  sparkling  sprint  and 
pnrhng  brooks;  the  delicate  yet  vibrant  and Tr  car 

d«-A,    I    J      tfnU  through  his  system  as  he  draws  a 
dead,    bead  and  puUs  the  trigger  of  his  old  and  fZr 

2  thVr'"''  *•■'  ''™»'"'''^  °f  '^^  lo^Jly  grouse 
and  the  dua^^  notes  of  cheery  Bob  White  in  the  second 
g«.wth  saphngs  and  shrubbery  on  the  slopInThm 
^de  fall  as  pleasantly  on  his  ear  as  notes  of    weetes 
muB,c;  hesees  the  home  of  the  frisky  grey  sou 

t^esTnTe"  T""  "  l"'  ''"'  ""'^  ^ried  ch's  ^ 
trees  ,n  the  older  growths  that  have  been  spared  as 
well  as  those  upon  almost  inaccessible  rocky  cMs  and 
the  b.rch  and  alder  runs  and  swampy  Icef  ^Hch 
are  scattered  about  in  great  abundancfthr  ugh^:*  t  « 
hell  -  7  *'"  '"••*'"*'°^  8'°-<l«  and  home  o 

ockTnT.r   '  '"""'^'  '^'  ^"""y  -<!  «™tic  wood 
cock  and  their  stopping  place  in  flight  time  when  ap- 

And  so  the  social  and  ethical  side  of  our  state  ih. 
«ps  and  downs  and  ins  and  outs  of  our  p  op  e  Hml  a 

sidV:S-!:£h^t'''' '"'"'-'''-'  ''^'  -'-'«^ 

siue  wnicn—but  the  team  was  now  in  the  doorvard  of 
our  farmer  friend  and  his  cheery  "Good  moX  and 
welcome"  put  a  stop  to  further  comparisonTdTm 

how'tte  St  r  "'^"';'  ""^  -^-^  -^  -"ed 
now  the  birds  had  wintered  and  what  the  prospect 
was  for  the  opening  of  the  season,  he  said  :     ''  WaW 

put  out  h.^""'  *'  '^  "'"  ''""'■^  "'  ^^y'  1"-1«  to 
pat  out  has  more  money  than  brains.     P'raps  they 


294 


Gathkbed  Waiflets. 


think  quails  roost  in  trees  and  live  on  bads  same  as 
patridge  does,  but  they  don't,  an'  one  good  snow  that 
lasts  a  week  cleans  'em  all  ont  ev'iy  time.  But  pat 
ridges  been  boomin'  lots  aroun'  here  all  summer,  'an 
by  Ooll,  I  never  see  so  many  timber^oodles  about 
here  afore  in  forty  year,  since  I  moved  on  this  place. 
Bro't  yer  old  dorg  with  yer,  eh  ?  I  never  seed  a  dorg 
as  knows  so  much,  hanged  if  I  did." 

Being  told  that  his  report  on  the  birds  was  most 
reassuring,  and  that  his  remarks  on  stocking  the  cov- 
erts with  quail  had  a  good  deal  of  horse  sense  to  rec- 
ommend them,  my  red  Irish  setter  dog  was  asked  to 
speak  his  thanks  for  the  farmer's  words  of  apprecia- 
tion and  praise,  which  he  promptly  did  by  loud  bark- 
ing. 

The  horse  was  now  safely  housed  in  the  bam  and 
we  took  our  departure  down  the  lane  and  across  the 
pasture  to  the  sag,  so  called,  a  hollow  depression  of  an 
acre  or  more  on  a  sunny  hillside  not  far  from  a  birch 
and  alder  run  with  occasional  small  pines,  fir  balsam, 
and  other  coniferous  and  deciduous  trees.  This 
extensive  basin,  or  sag,  as  it  is  called,  is  doubtless  a 
vast  spring  hole  as  a  trickling  stream  meanders  there- 
from through  the  sandy  soil  of  the  pasture  and  unites 
with  a  brook  a  little  lower  down.  The  wash  from  the 
surface  of  the  hiU  for  unnumbered  centuries  has  en- 
riched the  soil  and  given  it  vast  fertility.  White 
birch  saplings  grow  high  into  the  air  until  a  grape 
vine  or  wild  clematis  reach  out  and  embrace  them  ana 
pull  them  over  in  graceful  ellipse  to  the  earth  or  until 
their  tops  find  lodgment  in  the  tops  of  other  shrub- 
bery. Rank  growing  ferns,  rhododendrons,  laurel, 
and  other  herbaceous  plants,  grow  in  riotous  profusion 


Pbospectino  fob  Woodcock.  2l)B 

PviT'?*'«.  '"^^"^  *"'^*'^'''K  P^""*  ^"^  Mr.  and  M,-s. 
Philohek  Minor.     Skirting  along  the  upper  side  and 
for  a  distance  beyond,  a  stone  wall  separates  tlie  pa.- 
tuw  from  a  large  field  of  com,  now  well  tasselled  out 
and  completely  sliading  tli.  ,-round.    Approaching 
the  sag  from  the  pasture  side,  my  friend  climbed  to  the 
top  of  an  immense  boulder,  some  six  or  seven  feet 
high,  near  the  edge  of  the  undergrowth,  and  which 
commanded  a  view  over  nearly  its   whole  extent. 
Keeping  Rex  in  close,  I  pushed  my  way  through  five 
or  SIX  feet  of  dense  undergrowth   when  he  turned 
suddenly  toward  my  friend  and  made  a  staunch  point 
within  a  yard  of  where  I  stood.     Going  as  noiselessly 
as  I  might  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  hear  the  quern, 
lous  twitter  of  the  mother  bir^  ,vhen  she  rose,  but  my 
friends  voice  broke  the  silence  with  the  command  to 
stand  perfectly  still.     This  was  followed  by  another 
to  back  out  by  the  very  tracks  by  which  I  had  entered 
not  deviating  a  foot  to  the  right  or  left,  and  to  bring 
Rex  with  me     Accomplishing  this  as  best  I  could,  as 
Rex  persisted  m  holding  his  point,  we  were  soon  again 
m  the  opening. 

"There,"  said  he,  "I  have  seen  woodcock  do  many 
strange  things  in  my  day  but  this  is  the  most  erratic 
of  all  \  ou  see  the  black  alder  bush  with  the  red  ber- 
ries,  bes-de  which  you  stood.  Well,  the  instant  you 
steppea  bes.de  it  a  great  big  woodcock  jumped  up,  sput- 
tering all  the  protest  he  or  she  could  command,  and 
]ust  clearing  the  top  of  the  same  bush  dropped  down 
again  on  this  side  within  a  yard,  I  should  think,  of 
where  it  got  up."  And  this  was  within  a  rod  of  where 
we  then  stood.  Calling  out  to  Rex  to  "  go  on  "  he  ad 
vanced,  when  up  went  five  woodcock  uttering  theii 


I    ', 


'i  n 


296 


Gathered  Waiflkts. 


peculiar  querulous  whistle  in  protest  at  being  dis- 
turbed. They  made  only  a  short  flight  and  dropped 
down  on  the  other  side  of  the  sag  or  in  the  edge  of 
the  com  field,  it  being  impossible  to  tell  which  from 
our  location.  Ordering  Rex  to  heel  and  going  very 
quietly  aiound  to  the  opposite  side  to  avoid  the  dense 
and  tangled  undergrowth,  and  crossing  the  stone  wall, 
we  carefully  scrutinized  the  ground  at  the  edge  of  the 
growing  com  and  were  soon  rewarded  with  a  striking 
and  beautiful  sight.  A  full  grown  and  well  fed  wood- 
cock came  strutting  out  to  the  edge  of  the  com,  head 
up  and  tail  feathers  spread  out  like  a  fan  and  almost 
touching  the  back  of  his  head,  he  was  a  picture  of 
pride  and  independence  which  seemed  to  say  that  he 
was  monarch  of  all  he  surveyed.  His  right  we  then 
did  not  dispute  but  woe  betide  him  should  he  again 
afford  us  such  an  opportunity  a  little  later. 

We  quietly  retraced  our  steps  and  took  our  depart- 
ure to  Woodcock  Rock,  a  mile  or  more  away.  Here 
is  another  and  larger  "sag"  with  woodcock  conditions 
accentuated.  Here  such  riotous  undergrowth  abounds 
that  it  is  impossible  to  get  a  shot  when  following  the 
dog,  but  a  kindly  providencu  has  located  a  huge  boul- 
der near  the  center,  ascending  to  the  top  of  which  a 
fine  view  is  afforded  which  overlooks  the  surrounding 
shmbbery  and  overhanging  grapevines.  Standing 
upon  this  rock  during  the  last  season,  with  a  friend 
to  beat  the  cover  with  a  dog  and  to  give  notice  when 
he  pointed,  it  was  my  good  fortune  with  three  shots 
to  kill  four  woodcock  as  they  rose  above  the  top  of 
the  bushes — the  only  time  in  my  somewhat  lengthened 
shooting  career  that  I  ever  killed  two  woodcock  at  one 
shot 


Prospecting  tor  Woodcock.  297 

Here  we  put  .  gmaU  beU  on  Rex's  neck  and  sent 
him  into  the  cover  at  random.  In  a  few  moments  the 
tinkle  of  the  beU  ceased  and  again  we  knew  that  Wood- 
cock  Rock  was  true  to  its  tradition.  Promising  to  again 
revisn  It  on  opening  day  we  retraced  our  steps  to  the 
farm  house  where  we  had  agreed  to  sample  some  of 
our  friends  cider,  whipped  up  with  fresh  eggs  upon 
which  a  little  nutmeg  was  to  be  gmted-funny-guzzle 
water  he  caUed  it-with  our  mid-day  lunch.  Her* 
an  after  dinner  hour  was  spent  in  living  over  old 
experiences  and  teUing  the  tales  of  other  days 

Being  asked  if  he  had  ever  seen  woodcock  carrying 
their  young  he  answered  affirmatively  in  the  most  po^ 
itive  manner. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "it  was  only  las'  spring  when  me 
an  the  boys  was  plantin'  corn  we  seed  'em  do  it.  01' 
lige  got  a  woodchuck  in  the  waU  and  he  made  such 
a  tarnation  fuss  about  it,  yelpin'  an'  barkin'  an'  dig- 
gin  that  I  s'pose  the  ol'  mother  got  afraid  to  stay 
thar.  r  any  rate  John  seed  her  fust  and  sung  out  to 
therest  of  us  to  look  an' we  aU  seed  ol'  mother 
woodcock  claspin-  her  young  un  to  her  bosom  like 
any  mother  would,  flyin'  off  down  to  the  big  sag 
woodcock  rock  you  call  it" 

And  in  relation  to  the  homing  instinct  of  birds  he 
was  not  less  prompt  and  positive. 

"Well,  yes,  you  know  ol'  cripple  Jack  I  tole  you  on 
las  year.  Wa'al,  he's  here  again  this  year,  he  is. 
And  I  dont  believe  he's  such  a  fool  as  to  try  and 
stay  in  these  part;8  all  winter,  I  swan  I  don't.  If  he'd 
tried  it  he'd  been  a  dead  woodcock  sure." 

Old  cripple  Jack  is  a  woodcock  with  one  eye  de- 
stroyed and  a  broken  leg  that  it  would  take  a  pile  of 


r 


1   'I 


398 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


evidence  bigger  than  Wachusett  Mountain  to  make  onr 
farmer  friend  believe  is  not  the  same  identical  wood- 
cook  that  he  has  now  seen  two  years  in  succession, 
and  that  after  his  winter's  sojourn  in  the  sunny  south 
he  returned  to  his  old  mountain  home  in  New  Eng- 
land. 

The  sun  was  now  aslant  in  the  heavens,  and  after  a 
day  pleasantly  passed  amid  old  scenes  and  old  haunts 
that  cheer  the  heart  of  the  sportsman,  we  took  our  de- 
parture for  a  leisurely  drive  homeward,  with  a  com- 
pact made  and  entered  into  with  all  the  binding  force 
of  signed,  sealed  and  delivered,  to  be  again  on  the 
sloping  hillsides  and  foot-hills  of  old  Wachusett  in 
the  early  dawn  of  September  iirst,  with  dog  and  gun. 
— Field  and  Stream. 


h  '■ 


ZIGZAG  EXPERIENCES— I. 


THE  New  England  sportsman,  when  planning  for 
a  day  out  with  gun  and  dog  in  the  stubble 
for  the  swift-flying  quail,  or  along  the  wooded 
hil.'  iides  for  the  peer  of  American  game  birds,  the 
lordly  grouse,  or  along  the  sluggish  brook,  that  winds 
its  sinuous  course  through  alder  runs  for  the  erratic 
woodcock,  makes  an  elastic  programme,  having  learned 
in  the  school  of  experience  that  it  is  the  unexpected 
that  often  happens. 


ZiozAo  ExPBBiBiroEs.  999 

ms  piang,  »  difficult  op  peculiar  shot  may  surorise 
h.m  ,n  ,t«  result  and  when  a  certainty  seemed "r" 
able  a  humahating  failure  is  often  his  only  rewln 
^Vhat  IS  planned  as  a  pleasant  adventure  may  end"n 
d»appo,ntment,  and  that  of  an  nntowani  beynning 
may  have  a  very  pleasant  ending  ^ 

of  amTriZf  ""*''*';*'' "^'■''"•^■''''""^•^"'•'he  want 

UnTJt^^        ''P?™'"'  ^  """  "l^^«  experiences. 

toSl  T'°"  ^  "■'"  ^"'^y  ••«'*»«-  fr"-"  time 

to  t,me,  some  of  my  personal  experiences,  and  those 

pathetic  some  marvelous  and  some  ludicrous.     With 
one  of  the  latter  I  begin  the  narration. 

ton  r^Tl'^T  ^'"^  ^*'""'  ''•"'« '»  the  town  of  Charl- 
Hailoek  .    "'  *"""'  "'  '^•''•''*'«**''  -»■>*?  that 

SiolV^T  L"'"*^  '''''"  *^'''  *''°"^''t  of  suf^cient 
importance  to  be  pointed  out  to  sportsmen,   in  his 
feportsman-s  Gazetteer,"  as  "a  good'place  f;r  ^uaij 
ruffed  grouse,  woodcock,  etc." 

Time,  in  his  zigzag  flight,  has  made  many  changes 
here  as  elsewhere.  A  growing  army  of  shooters  have 
made  sad  havoc  with  the  birds,  many  of  the  best  cov 
era  of  former  times  have  been  destroyed  by  the  woods- 
man  s  axe,  and  to  others  the  "No  Trespass  "  signs  for- 
bid  an  entrance.  ^ 

Being  invited  to  spend  a  few  days  in  November  at 
the  Holmes  fann  at  Dresser  Hill  of  Revolutionary 
and  subsequent  fame  and  a  good  place  for  birds,  a  trio 
sauntered  forth  in  the  clear,  crisp  and  bracing  frosty 
morning  air-Erfo.d,  Charley  and  the  writer-hold ' 
a  quintet,  for  Shot  and  Dock,  two  as  good  setters  as 
ever  pointed  a  bird,  were  also  of  the  party. 


300  Gatiikkbd  Waiklkts. 

We  journeyed  to  the  north  and  we»t  and  covered 
quite  an  extent  of  country,  making  some  nice  clean 
killg  and  some  gcandalous  misses. 

We  added  to  our  game  bags  in  the  Mclntyre  cover, 
and  after  working  it  out,  started  for  another  cover 
nearly  a  mile  away.  To  get  there  we  had  to  pass  a 
very  promiting  wooded  growth  of  considerable  extent, 
which  was  posted  with  an  abundance  of  no  trespass 

signs. 

The  highway  runs  along  one  side  of  this  beautiful 
chestnut  woods,  and  on  the  other  side  of  the  road 
is  a  sloping  hillside  overgrown  with  scrub  oak  and  an 
occasional  dwarf  pine.  Turning  a  bend  in  the  high- 
way we  saw,  at  a  considerable  distance,  the  old  fanner 
who  owned  the  posted  land  coming  toward  us  with  a 
yoke  of  oxen  and  a  wagon.  He  was  described  to  me 
as  a  cantankerous  old  man,  who  found  no  pleasure  in 
life,  or,  if  qualified  pleasure  he  found  at  all,  it  was  in 
trying  to  make  others  as  unhappy  as  he  could. 

Charley  said  I  had  better  keep  along  in  the  road, 
and  while  the  hillside,  which  belonged  to  another 
farm  and  was  not  posted,  was  rather  an  unpromising 
place  for  birds,  that  he  and  Erford  would  take  the 
dogs  along  and  work  it  out,  and  that  if  they  started  any 
birds  which  they  failed  to  get,  I  might  get  a  shot  as 
they  crossed  the  road  to  the  woods  which  were  adorned 
with  the  no  trespass  signs. 

Soon  after  they  left  me  1  met  the  farmer  and  ac- 
costed him  with :    "  A  pleasant  afternoon,  sir !" 

"Wa-al,  pleasant  or  not  pleasant,  I  don't  want  you 
huntin'  on  my  land.     See  them  signs  ?" 

"Why,  my  dear  sir,  you  have  a  most  excellent  piece 
of  woods  there  and  I  would  not  think  of  harming  it 


ZiOZAO    ExPKRIBlrcES. 


801 
I  walked 


by  walking  through  it,"  waa  my  reply 
along.  ' ' 

Some  little  disUnce  beyond,  the  timber  growth  te^ 

what  had  become  of  the  farmer  and  his  team.  I  saw 
them  turning  into  the  woods.    As  I  turned  a.  jut  to 
pursue  my  way,  I  noticed  an  apple  t«e  in  the  pasture 
not  far  from  the  woods,  and  instantly  a  partridge  took 
flight  from  underneath  it     As  quick   as  thought  I 
covered  h.m  and  fired  in  the  line  of  his  flight ;  bu 
seeing  no  bird  faU,  nor  a  single  feather  fluttering  down 
the  wind,  I  concluded  that  I  had  scored  a  clean  miss 
Breaking  open  my  gun  to  replace  the  shell  flred 
judge  of  my  surprise  to  see  four  more  take  wing  and 
plunge  into  the  cover  before  I  could  complete  the  act 
Not  an  unusual  experience  to  be  sure,  but  mighty  ex- 
asperating.  *    ■' 

Soon  my  companions  were  at  my  side  inquiring 
what  I  had  shot  at  Being  told  the  story,  Erford 
volunteered  to  go  back  and  importune  the  former  to 
let  them  and  their  guest  put  in  a  few  hours  in  his 
woods.  In  the  meantime,  Chariey  and  I  were  to  try 
and  get  some  of  the  bir.ls  while  negotiations  were 
pending  even  ,f  driven  oflf  later,  which  it  was  thought 
we  certainly  should  be.  ^ 

We  had  not  been  been  long  in  cover  before  Char- 
ley  s  dog  pointed,  and  a  plump  bird  fell  to  his  gun 
and  but  a  short  time  thereafter  I  added  another  to  mv 
score.  ' 

We  soon  encountered  Erford  and  the  farmer  who 
finally  gave  his  consent,  much  to  their  surprise,  as 

er^I^n    i        /'^^*  ""^  "■■•^  "«  '^^-'''^d' o  Dres- 
ser  HiU  after  a  day  of  rare  enjoyment  and  success. 


!» 


MS 


GArKEBID   WAirLKTS. 


The  following  Christmas  onr  farmer  friend  and  his 
wife  were  importuned  to  visit  a  married  daughter  in  a 
city  some  little  distance  away,  and  the  young  people 
of  th'  '  -usehold  took  advantage  of  their  absence  to 
have  a,  L  n  ristmas  party  of  the  young  people  of  the  town 
at  the  old  homestead.  After  the  Virginia  Reel,  Money 
Musk,  and  other  old-time  dances— and  apples,  cider, 
pumpkin  pies,  doughnuts  and  cheese  had  been  served 
— stories,  good  natured  banter  and  other  frolics  were 
the  order  during  intermission. 

"Well,  Charley,"  said  the  farmer's  son,"  who  is 
your  friend  from  AVorcester  shooting  partridges  for 
now*" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Charley. 

"  Why,  don't  you  remember  the  day  that  Erford  got 
father  to  let  yon  fellows  shoot  up  in  the  chestnut 
woods?  Well,  just  before  Erford  got  up  to  father, 
your  friend  shot  a  partridge  that  came  tumbling 
down  through  the  treetop  and  fell  at  his  feet  He 
picked  it  up  and  put  it  in  his  pocket  and  as  he  thought 
he  might  get  another  he  let  you  fellows  go  on  and  hunt. 
— Foreet  and  Stream. 


mi 


ZIGZAG  EXPERIENCES— II. 


A    PHANTOM    WOODCOCK. 

RISING  high  above  its  fellows,  Mount  W.chusett 
overlook*  centra]  an<l  eastern  Massachusetts 
th       »l  '"♦•  "m    ^"*  '"tervenes  to  break  the  vision  to 

mo~\t     L    '"m"  "'■'•'''  ""'y  '^^  «««"  «'  *  •'loar  <l»y 
more  than  fifty  miles  away. 

Radiating  from   its  siJes  like  so  many  pnlsatimr 

.rtenes  .nstinct  with  life  and  running  to  all  poin';  „' 

the  compass,  are  several  purling  trout  brooks  that  »,. 

ward  the  knowledge  and  skill  of  the  angler  with  many 

a  goodly  creel  of  gamy  trout.  ^ 

Those  flowing  to  the  south  and  east,  seeking  light 

of  thensingsun,  join  their  forces  and  swell  in  vol- 

ume,  making  the  rivers  known  as  the  guin«po.x-et  river 

and  Stdlnver,  the  conrtuence  of  which  at  Oakdale  Z 

the  birthplace  of  the  pentle  Nashua  river.     Along 

these  orooks  and  adjacent  hillsides  are  many  excel 

.dnt  woodcock  runs  and  coverts  for  ruffe.l  grouse 

Mast  grows  in  abundance-blackbemes,  blueber- 
nes,  partridge  berries,  grapes,  chestnuts-and  fe« 
sportsmen  m  the  crisp  days  of  autumn  have  better 
opportunities  for  enjoyment  with  g„n  and  dog  than 
those  whose  good  fortune  it  is  to  know  the  cm .  rts 
and  to  pursue  the  wary  game  birds  in  these  favorite 


i  '  ) 


1  ■{ 


304  Gathered  "Waiflets. 

Boston  is  not  a  prohibition  city,  and  yet  singular 
as  it  may  seem,  she  is  seeking  for  more  water.  Al- 
ready her  scientific  men  and  engineers  are  at  work 
binding  the  waters  of  the  Nashua  near  its  source  by  a 
mighty  dam,  which  is  bound  to  take  its  place  among 
the  triumphs  of  engineering,  and  which  is  destined  to 
be  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world. 

Already  our  favorite  woodcock  ground  at  Sawyer's 
Mills  is  a  thing  of  the  past;  but  blotted  out  as  it  is, 
it  will  live  long  in  memory  as  one  of  the  best  wood- 
cock runs  in  which  I  ever  fired  a  gun.  Here  the  river 
recedes  from  a  sloping  hillside  on  the  north  and  west 
and  makes  an  intervale  of  some  fifty  or  seventy-five 
acres  in  extent,  which  is  overgrown  with  a  dense 
growth  of  black  alders  and  white  birches. 

The  soil  is  a  moist,  black,  light  sandy  marl  that 
Phitohela  minor  loves,  and  having  natural  protection 
from  the  vicissitudes  of  New  England  weather  and  the 
advantage  of  the  sun's  wai-mest  rays  in  early  spring, 
no  better  breeding  grounds  can  be  found. 

Here  it  was  in  the  callow  days  of  youth  that  I  shot 
and  killed  my  first  woodcock— the  first  bird  that  I 
ever  fired  a  shot  at  on  the  wing.  It  was  an  unex- 
pected but  most  successful  shot  and  one  that  I  will 
always  remember  with  pleasure. 
But  that  is  another  story. 

It  is  of  another  occasion  and  another  experience 
that  I  am  to  write.  On  this  same  ground,  some  years 
after,  I  had  a  very  singular  experience  bordering  on 
the  marvelous. 

In  company  with  two  friends  we  drove  to  a  nearby 
farmhouse  and  put  our  team  in  the  bam. 

We  were  soon  in  our  favorite  haunt,  which  was  now 


ZiOZAO  EXPBBIBNCES.  305 

oar'^nrn^'"  """-y  Pla«es  that  to  work  it  out  thoroughly 
oar  progress  was  necessarily  very  slow.  Many  times 
the  dogs  could  not  be  seen  twenty  feet  away,  and  often 

therl     .     ri'  '""''. ^'y'-g  '»  get  i"to  a  position 

the  bird  flushed    and,  without  being  able  to  get  my 

see  Tatars  Mr' "'  '  Y'  '"^^^^  "^  "^  ^^P"-  »" 
ee  feathers  fallmg  gently  among  the  limbs,  and  work- 

cTeavtr  ^  "   "  "^"■"^•^   "■'*'■  »  butcher'I 

wh?/  fl  '?""^  *'"  '''^'^  -^  ^'"'«  '"«*«»''«  «nd  pointed 
where  he  had  secreted  himself  under  some  dead  brush 
and  roots.  Drawing  him  forth  I  found  a  wing  gone 
but  not  another  shot  had  touched  him 

My  companions  joining  me  soon  after,  we  smoothed 
his  plumage  and  admired  his  beauty.  One  of  them 
suggested  putting  him  out  of  misery  at  once  in  a 
humane  manner,  and  taking  from  his  utility  box  a 
large  chisel-pointed  sewing  machine  needle,  he  forced 
^t  mto  the  base  of  the  skull  and  then  gave  'it  a  rotlry 

resulted,  when  he  became  limp  in  apparent  death. 

Depositing  him  in  my  game  pocket,  we  separated 
and  resumed  the  quest.  Meeting  again  after  the  lapse 
of  a  couple  of  hours,  we  sat  down  for  a  little  rest 
when  I  felt  a  fluttering  in  my  game  pocket.  Taking 
out  one,  two  three  birds,  stone  dead,  the  fourth,  my 
wingless  bird,  was  as  active  as  if  he  had  not  lost  a 


.'■ii 

i 

'fl'^     '!■ 

'   ) 

• 

1! 

•i 
i 

.1' 


ao6  Gathered  Waiflbts. 

wing  and  the  needle  of  my  companion  had  never 
made  an  exploring  expedition  to  the  base  of  his  brain. 
Companion  No.  2  now  had  his  innings. 

"If  you  are  going  to  kill  a  bird,"  said  he,  "there  is 
but  one  sure  way  to  do  it,  and  that  is  this  way"— 
taking  the  bird  and  crushing  its  skuU  between  his 
teeth.  More  spasms,  tremors  and  twitchings  resulted, 
and  all  again  was  ,iuiet.  Again  we  pirted  to  meet  at 
the  bam  at  12  o'clock  to  eat  our  lunch  and  take  a  lit 
tie  mid^day  rest. 

I  shot  another  brace  and  arriving  at  the  barn  be- 
fore my  friends  I  noticed  more  evidence  of  life  in  my 
pocket,  and  thinking  it  must  be  one  of  the  last  lot  of 
birds  shot  proceeded  to  investigate.     Judge  of  my 
surprise  when  I  found  that  it  proceeded  from  my 
wingless  friend.    There,  thought  I,  you  may  talk  of 
the  humane  method  and  the  sure  method,  I  will  kill 
the  poor  fellow  as  I  have  seen  fanciers  kill  chickens, 
who  make  certain  work  of  it  by  wringing  their  necks. 
Grasping  him  firmly  by  his  bill,  I  proceeded  to 
whirl  him  round  and  round  until  it  seemed  that  there 
was  not  left  an   unbroken  cervical  vertebrw  in   his 
neck— and  so  I  gave  him  another  quietus.     Returning 
all  to  pocket,  I  told  my  companions  on  arrival  of  my 
experience,  whereat  they  marvelled  much,  and  said  he 
must  have  borne  a  charmed  life,  and  he  has  since  been 
known  as  the  phantom  woodcock. 

We  spent  tlie  afternoon  in  other  covers,  and  added 
to  our  store;  but  more  and  more  was  I  suprised  on 
my  return  home  to  find  evidence  of  life  in  that  self- 
same bird,  nor  did  it  cease  until  his  beauty  for  the 
table  was  destroyed  by  decapitation.-i^-orcst  and 
Stream. 


ZIGZAG  EXPERIENCES.— III. 


SHOOTING    BUFFED   GROUSE    WITH    A   OVN    -VAD. 

THE  dog-str-  i8  no  longer  doing  business  at  the 
old  stana  and  the  breath  of  Boreas  has  already 
painted  hillside  and  dale  in  aU  the  gorgeous 

vntaj!  f  V  '"'"■'  --hilarating  than  the  choicest 
vintage  of  champagne-its  stillness  broken  only  by 
the  tread  of  the  sportsman  and  the  tinkle  of  the  beU 

wn:::;ir''  ^^*"'  -  ^^^-'-^  ^'-  --^  -^ 

In  addition  to  the  good  which  comes  from  a  day 
spent  in  wooded  copse  and  alder  runs,  and  the  many 
fasc  nations  and  varied  experiences  which  remain  as 
pmed  remembrances,  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the 
region  and  of  the  habits  of  the  game  biris  of  our 

wemrained  dog,  wiU  reward  the  effort  with  many  a 
good  y  bag.  Evan  in  this,  the  old  Bay  State,  one'of 
he  oldest  and  most  densely  populated  in  the  Union, 

Itself  would  be  taxed,  if  told  the  number  of  game 
biKls  annuaUy  killed  within  its  borders. 

But  It  IS  not  my  purpose  now  to  tell  of  the  benefit 
pleasure  or  success  that  comes  to  him  who  goes  afield 
but  to  relate  another  of  the  many  unexpected  and 
peculiar  experiences  which  befall  the  devotee  of  dog 


308 


Gathered  Waiflkts. 


SI  .; 


We  had  spent  the  crisp,  frosty  night  in  the  hoBpi^ 
able  Holmes  homestead,  on  Dresser  Hill,  in  the  old 
town  of  Charlton,  and  early  in  the  morning  a  trio, 
consisting  of  the  two  sons,  Erford  and  Charley,  and 
the  writer,  accompanied  by  Shot  and  Dock— two  as 
good  setters  as  ever  pointed  or  retrieved  a  bird 
started  southward  toward  the  covers  in  Dudley— the 
land  of  the  Nipmucks  and  the  birthplace  of  Ness- 
muk— the  land  of  grapevine  and  chestnut— the  home 
of  many  a  prized  woodcock  and  lordly  ruffed  grouse. 
We  beat  not  the  covers  in  vain,  and  the  birds,  with 
smoothed  plumage  and  laid  in  a  row,  won  encomiums 
from  the  farmer  who  kindly  brought  us  a  pitcher  of 
new  cider  to  add  zest  to  our  lunch  at  the  nooning 

hour. 

Swinging  around  to  the  westward  to  take  in  new 
ground  on  our  return,  we  encountered  a  hill  of  consid- 
erable proportions,  the  sloping  sides  of  which  and  ad- 
jacent territory  were  covered  with  a  dense  growth 
which  made  good  cover,  while  the  summit  had  been 
cleared  and  was  now  open  pasture  land. 

My  companions,  who  were  entirely  familiar  with  the 
locality,  informed  me  that  the  cover  was  very  dense 
around  the  base  of  thf)  hill,  and  so  thoroughly  over- 
grown with  grapevines  and  wild  clematis  that  it  was 
very  difficult  to  get  through  it,  and  to  make  a  suc- 
cessful shot  therein  was  next  to  impossible;  and  they 
kindly  advised  me  to  take  a  position  on  the  top,  where 
I  would  get  an  open  shot  at  every  bird  that  they 
might  start  and  not  kill,  as  they  were  certain  to  dart 
up  over  the  summit  to  cover  on  the  opposite  side. 

I  am  not  boasting  that  I  am  as  young  or  light  on 
foot  as  once  I  was,  nor  am  I  denying  that  I  was  some- 


I  •' 


ZiOZAO  EXPEBIENCKH. 


cause  of  tiaTn't  r  ,  "^.^  *"  'P'''^  »«■  "'  be- 
characteristic  ofTodt?  "t"""  ''  '^^-'"'y  «<• 
aceonl  „,e  thep  ace  of  t^lf?  t*  "'""'"P*^''  *■="«  *<> 
know.     But  aU  the  sime  T T      T"*^''  ^  ""^  "-«' 

L.r  of  their  location  «„/  .        dogs,  apprised 

""'I  "•■  ■"■"»-'  ™  «"«.  Ll"" "»' "  ""^ 

came  directly  toward  „.    T    ^V^"  """-?"*''  """^ 
I  ..eed  not  te]    old  t„^l       '^^.^"^^'"^  *^«  e™""<l- 

Pinions  or  Of  ;i:\i,rtr;;"eer'''*^^^^^^ 

dead  bird  began  to  showXVjf  Ij;;*^^''^  °»-'-  -^ 

>1nt5"':id'':ri?r''  ?  «-^^«  -onosyUaWe 
«^ng  as  a  precaution  a'       r  '°°'  "P""  ""  -'"«-'«'' 

heeitothSiTLtfrrir""""^°'^^--« 

t'oon  another  noble  bird  came  njy  v,a„  „„.  ,,• 


310 


Gathered  Waifletu. 


-^  f 


first  bird,  in  his  endeavors  to  seenre  his  liberty,  fint- 
tered  and  thrashed  the  ground  with  aU  the  animation 
and  vigor  of  a  mature  bird  that  had  never  been  in- 
jured. My  companions  soon  joined  me,  when  we  put 
him  out  of  b's  misery  by  passing  the  smaU  blade  of  a 
penknife  through  the  spinal  column  at  the  base  of  the 

skulL 

Subsequently,  when  the  bird  was  dressed,  the  closest 
examination  failed  to  reveal  the  presence  of  a  single 
shot  or  shot  mark. 

Square  on  the  breast,  where  the  neck  joined  the 
body,  was  a  circular  black  mark  that  was  very  black 
and  about  the  size  of  a  silver  quarter  of  a  dollar. 
The  shot  had  been  scattered  to  the  winds,  and  a  gun 
wad  had  brought  the  quarry  to  earth.— Jor««  and 
Stream,  October  15, 1898. 


U         i: 


■  "i 


:      i 


ZIGZAG  EXPERIENCES— IV. 


A   lUDICROUS   MEADOW   LARK. 

Tempo-The  sea  fowl  shooting  season  of  a  few  yoars 
ago.  /  "MO 

^''ThM''*'^*"'^""  Massachusetts  sportsmen  of 
which  the  writer  was  one 

Sce««-The  shooting  box  of  Captain  Andrews  situated 
on  the  coast  of  Virginia,  south  of  Cape  Henry 
amid  the  vast  regions  of  sand  and  water  and  marsh 
adjacent  to  the  Atlantic  Coast,  where  human  hab- 
tationsare  few  and  far  between,  and  where  myr- 
lads  of  sea-fowl  make  their  winter  home. 

THE  stress  of  weather  prevailing  during  the  eariy 
morning  hours  sent  many  visitors  to  our  de- 
coys  at  Shell  Point  and  many  a  prized  canvas- 
back  and  goodly  redhead  were  added  to  our  score 
wasTver'  ^""°"'^*^'  ^''*'«"'«^'' '"'''  the  morning  flight 
Soon  thereafter  my  companion  proposed  that  we 
return  to  headquarters  and  exchange  our  heavy  gun 
for  lighter  arms  and  seek  the  scaiping,  scalping  snil 

rcrsti^ir-"--^--^«^--= 

Accompanied  by  our  boatmen  and  gunners,  we 
divided  into  two  parties,  and  journeyed  northwal 
toward  one  of  the  life  saving  stations  some  four  mile 


i;--;^ 


!  .1 


u 


312 


Gathkred   Waiflbts. 


Thia  proved  to  be  one  of  the  days  when  I  was  at  my 
best,  and  I  killed  almost  everything  I  shot  at,  and 
made  several  long  distance  and  difficult  kills  that  won 
the  admiration  and  praise  of  my  boatman— especially 
a  meadow  lark  that  fell  to  my  gnn  soon  after  starting 
out. 

Meeting  by  appointment  at  the  life  saving  station, 
my  compani-in's  game  bag  proved  to  be  empty,  al- 
though his  ami.iunition  pockets  had  been  materially 
lightened  during  the  journey. 

Candor  compelii  me  to  admit  that  this  was  a  very 
unusual  experience  with  him,  but  he  offered  as  an  ex- 
planation his  impaired  vision  resulting  from  the  seeth- 
ing, cutting  sand  with  which  the  air  is  filled,  and  which 
produces  sand  ophthalmia,  a  very  prevalent  disease  in 
these  parts. 

But  sand  or  no  sand,  he  was  made  the  butt  of 
much  jesting  and  good-natured  chafing,  for  wasting  so 
much  good  ammunition  and  failing  to  score.  This 
was  persisted  in  until  he  became  somewhatltouchy  and 
said  that  I  had  better  opportunity  to  kill  than  he  had, 
and  that  he  could  beat  me  at  the  game  if  I  would  ex- 
change routes  with  him  on  our  return  trip.  This  was 
finally  agreed  to,  each  to  follow  the  tracks  left  in  the 
sand  by  ■  iie  other,  when  I  assured  him  that  if  a  life 
saving  boat  was  to  take  wing  he  couldn't  hit  it ! 

I  had  not  proceeded  far  on  the  return  before  the 
drifting  sand  had  so  filled  his  tracks  that  the  trail  was 
as  hard  to  find  as  the  place  on  his  now  bald  head, 
where  he  used  to  part  his  hair.  We  finally  struck  a 
bee  line  for  Little  Island,  the  home  of  Captain  Andrews 
showing  but  indistinctly  in  the  hazy  distance. 

1  added  several  more  of  the  cork-screwing  birds  we 


ZiOZAO  ExPKRIKjfcitS. 


of  «;tCn.Ws';  '"\"""''  ""^"^-l  ^he  story 

eompli„,ented  him  upon  the  ]at'  T""l  '^^  ^'"P*"'" 
I  told  him  he  h«l  killed        ^    "^  "'  *''"^''  ^''''^'■ 

Not  having  killed  a  sinele  hirH  «„  i,- 
proved  the  last  st«w  Ind  h«  hit  .''".'«*•"».  th" 
had  taken  the  meadow  wt  whieu\"",  ^f  "'""'  ' 
hoars  before  from  J„  ^  '"'^  *"""  several 
gn'Bping  th7'bS"th7DoT  ''  "'"''™'"  ^"''1  h^. 
an<I  think  he  is  a  Jrelf  «h  !  'u'""''  *""  ^'«  '^"^- 
of  Extra  Dr^  thatT  uT'  *•"*  ^  '^'^  ^"^  »  bottle 
throw  it  upTnto  1 L""  '  *"'  ^'"'^  ^-"^  ''>"'  ^vhen  I 

v^-oX''m^o::t:;s\f7jn  "•-'"'  ^^^^  *^-« 

much  more  choice  if  thl  .!    t,  "''"*'  '"'"^'*  ^e 

He  tossed  the  bird  up  whfin  if  ;™  ,-  . 
^ng  and  struck  a  li^htnt  J  .  "^mediately  took 
Carolina.  I  thretS  1,  "^Z""'  ^"'"^  ^""""^  ^"''h 
'veil  I  thought  asT  ^Ir  1°.  ^^  '^""^^"'^  ''^^^^'^  as 
bang!  -^^'ZJ'^J^"'"''  '°  ""^ W«'-d 
know  that  bird  is  going  yet '  '"  ^"  "'  ^ 

the'^Xv^it:.?;;!?^'; .  ^^^^  '^'«'  p-^*  ^o- 

**'  ^nd  A<reom,  February  25, 1899. 


\    i 


i 


ZIGZAG  EXPERIENCES— V. 


1: 


AN  UNKXPBCTKU  F.NCOUSTER  WITH  FIBKR  ZIBETHICU8. 

YOUTH  and  early  manhood  have  long  since  left 
our  schoolboy  days  in  the  distant  past,  biit  the 
lapse  of  years  only  tends  to  renew  and  confirm 
the  lessons  learned  in  the  little  old  weatherbeaten 
school  house  beside  the  country  road. 

We  turn  a  retrospective  glance  and  behold  the  plain, 
everyday,  common-sense  system  and  methods  of  the 
past  have  been  blotted  out  by  the  transmuting  evolu- 
tion of  the  present  with  its  lengthening  curriculum  of 
frills  and  flounces— with  its  "swing  of  Pleiades,"  isms, 
psychology  and  other  irridescent  bubbles. 

New  investigations,  new  light  and  deeper  study  may 
have  overturned  some  of  the  old  teachings,  but  our 
early  lessons  were  so  thoroughly  inculcated,  so  thor- 
oughly mastered,  and  so  thoroughly  assimilated,  that 
we  And  it  diflicult  to  dethrone  the  old  and  to  fall  down 
and  worship  the  new— and  in  unguarded  moments  the 
mind  reverts  to  the  accepted  teachings  of  early  years. 
"You  may  break,  you  may  shatter  the  vase  if  you  will. 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  hang  round  it  still. 

From  our  old  leather-bound  and  well-thumbed  te.xt- 
book  on  natural  history  we  learned  that  our  interest- 
ing American  friend,  the  muskrat,  with  whom  we 
oftentimes    sought    closer   acquaintance    beside    the 


brooki  and  riv-r.  :.        ■ 

»nd  «o  cleanly  in  h  ,  h/b       hr^':r'''  '  ^"'f'"*"-"- 
the  root*  of  the  Jater  1'      ."^"'^"^  *"''''''• 

my  astonishment  a? da  J:  T  P'^'''"«'- Jud^e  of 
-nmmonsoftherena.at  «'»'«■>  an-.^-erin^  the 
fln<J  a  whole  men^lne   in.I    r  """f ""''  "^  '  '"'  «" 

»rin  because  of  SeTd-         >        '"'  '""'^*«'  "'J  "»■«• 
bound        to  thV;X-S7a:^  *^«  ''-  -^'^^ 

wSais,'pS:rd:fai;f'^'^^^^^^^ 

t-atio  acts  of  the' Srlt '  Vo;  ^T"""'  ^"^ 
««  i'  I  had  the  whole  ChiZe  E™n,  '  ",  '"""""^ 

every  Mongolian  was  doinT.,-  ^  "*  ""  ""^  ""«  ""d 
hi*  own  count.?  But  hlf  ^  """*"'*  *°  '«'»"°  i° 
monst«nce  waTin  vltnd'"""''^  ^"•"^^'^  ""  •- 

had  been  JendinlTn  th«  '^'. '  V*"*  ^"^''°^°'''  ««  »"« 
vegetarian  to  tt^"  ^  '^^^^^  from  a 

mixed  diet,  and  so  fnr^lh-  "'  *^'^''"  °P«»  « 

tive  though  and^fi"f'"»  ""^  ""'*'«'  '"'  "P*""!- 
essary.  ""^'''^  »  "^""»"  «*  text-books  nee 

BioflL^Wed'r""  •  ""1" -^  -«  *'••*  "-i  -ncln. 


H 


S16 


GaTHKRED   WAirtKTH. 


thereof,  there  are  many  other  pouible  ezplanationi 
which  ihonld  be  given  due  consideration. 

Was  it  a  caie  of  miiUken  identity  1  Did  he  mii- 
take  the  minnow  for  a  floating  pieee  of  yellow  lily 
root  or  a  piece  of  parsnip  from  a  neighUiring  acuUery  ? 
Wa»  it  an  accident  *  Was  Mr.  Muskrat  out  on  a  love 
adventure,  and  go  thoroughly  BbBorbe<l  in  proapective 
pleasure  as  to  thoughtlessly  run  foul  of  the  minnow, 
and  snapping  at  it  t<.  east  it  out  of  his  pathway  be- 
come accidentally  impaled  upon  the  hook? 

Aha!  And  suppose  the  minnow  was  the  attacking 
party.  AVhat  then  ?  Suppose  the  minnow  was  imbued 
with  the  ambition  of  vEsop's  frog,  and  that  he  thought 
himself  big  enough  and  powerful  enough  to  subdue 
everything  in  the  pond  J  Ah !  who  will  tell  i— Forest 
and  Stream,  May  26, 1900. 


J    .' 


THANKSGIVING  IN  THE  WOODS. 


44QNOWING,  come." 

^  Our  Winter  hunt  for  lH\r.i  had  been 
planned  many  months  previously  and  all  prep- 
arations had  been  made  for  a  hasty  departure  when 
our  guides  should  summon  us,  and  now  in  the  latter 
part  of  November  came  over  the  wire  the  short  but 
welcome  message  which  appears  above.  Next  morn- 
ing our  party  made  up  of  Boston  and  New  York 
friends  and  the  scribe,  together  with  generous  supplies 


"=^      -V.OUP- 

f-HltD     OWtt      o---^      »^ 


-BQIX^D 


CBKIMU    ...    L.ttB  TONCUl  3" 


""-•"■Ot.t „        DtlHi  „t„„T 


y- 


HOT  BlSCUlT- 


-  iE»'«>!,iaffir  - 


r.0,.,.  ^p,^  t.«„cf  '°;ors"i;r.r-'r°„rp"'"-^ 

-Ttn- 


*iNCt, 


-COFPEE-       fli- 


-    OLD.f^qDKOMtJ     HUM    - 

CicHFif-rrL  'j- 


I  Ml 


I    '  ■': 


Thanksgiving  in  the  Wood:^.  ;)i7 

for  such  an  adventnre,  were  beiofr  Iiastily  traasported 
toward  the  mountain  fastness.  .>.'  .K-irhwestern  Maine, 
where  the  beaver  builds  his  d  m  tad  thri  Wdly  moose 
has  still  his  home. 

For  hours  we  had  journeyed  away  riv.ir  civilization, 
and  late  in  the  afternoon  we  arrived  at  the  terminus 
of  the  standard  gauge  railroad  where  transfer  is  made 
to  the  diminutive  narrow  gauge  road,  its  rails  being 
but  two  feet  apart,  and  room  for  but  a  single  passen- 
ger in  each  seat  of  its  cars. 

Seated  in  these  diminutive  ears  we  follow  the  devi- 
ous pathway  of  winding  stream,  climb  over  mountain 
spurs,  and  HnaUy  alight  at  the  little  station  of  Dead 
River,  in  the  forest,  where  but  a  single  house  is  the 
only  habitation.  And  yet  our  journey  is  not  ended, 
nor  will  it  be  until  we  have  gone  into  the  denser  forest 
soma  fifty  miles  beyond,  where  the  shriek  of  the  lociv 
motive  is  not  heard  and  the  dilettanti  do  not  come. 
Here  teams  are  taken  for  an  eighteen-mile  drive  over 
a  primitive  road  to  our  destination  for  the  night. 

Before  the  sun  appeared  above  Mount  Bigelow  the 
next  morning  a  buckboard  with  our  party  and  supplies 
on  board  took  its  departure  over  the  unequalled  blue- 
ribbon  corduroy,  boulder  and  bog  road  of  Maine  for 
the  camps  of  the  Megantic  Club  on  the  Chain  of 
Ponds  in  the  Dead  River  region  some  twenty  miles 
away. 

AVe  had  planned  to  reach  these  camps  soon  after 
mid-day  and  our  permanent  camp  beyond  Mount  l>is- 
gah,  in  the  Moose  River  Valley,  the  same  night. 

But  the  weather  grew  sunny  and  warm  with  advanc- 
ing day,  and  the  melting  snow  and  previous  rains  had 
so  filled  the  bogs  and  worked  such  sad  havoc  with  much 


-.(  .1 


im^ 


318 


(tathered  Waiflets. 


H      :.l 


of  the  corduroy  that  our  progress  was  slow  indeed. 
It  was  80  late  in  the  afternoon  when  we  reached 
Shaw's  isolated  farmhouse,  some  seven  or  eight  miles 
distant  from  the  Megantic  Club  camps,  and  as  far  as 
it  was  possible  for  the  buckboard  to  go,  that  we  de- 
cided to  stay  there  over  night  and  push  on  to  onr  des- 
tination the  next  day.  Shaw's  farm  is  simply  a  clearing 
in  the  wilderness  on  which  to  grow  hay  to  feed  the 
horses  and  oxen  used  in  lumbering  operations  during 
tlie  Winter  season.  It  would  be  a  very  expensive  lux- 
ury to  transport  it  in  from  the  settlements. 

As  frequently  happens  in  this  northern  country  at 
this  season,  when  the  sun  went  down  it  grew  intensely 
cold  and  next  morning  the  ground  was  white  with  snow 
and  a  sheet  of  ice  covered  the  ponds. 

Our  guides  looked  crestfallen.  The  ice  was  not 
thick  enough  to  be  safe,  and  to  go  around  the  shore 
to  the  other  side  of  the  pond  to  the  trail  was  entirely 
out  of  the  question,  because  of  the  dense  water  brush, 
boulders,  over-turned  trees  around  the  shore,  and  trap- 
rock  in  places  rising  sheer  fifty  feet  and  over  out  of 
the  water.  And  besides,  such  crust  had  formed  upon 
the  snow  that  the  most  careful,  stealthy  footsteps 
could  be  heard  a  hundred  yards  away,  making  success- 
ful still-hunting  of  big  game  absolutely  impossible. 

A  lodge  of  deliberation  was  opened  in  due  form 
when  the  guides  suggested  that  the  trip  be  abandoned 
or  postponed  to  a  more  favorable  season.  It  was  an- 
nounced to  them  that  we  were  out  for  big  game,  that 
we  had  proceeded  too  far  to  back  out,  that  the  weather 
bureau  probably  had  some  more  snow  to  distnbnte, 
that  we  would  await  its  arrival  with  becoming  compla- 
cency, and  that  the  problem  now  pressing  for  immedi- 


Thanksoivijto  in  the  Woods.  8i<i 

Hte  solution  was  how  best  to  get  an  early  view  of  Camp 
1  aylor  over  in  the  valley  beyond  the  mountain. 

Our  (fuide  of  endless  resource,  Herb  Heal,  child  of 
the  forest,  lithe  and  sinewey,  as  wiUing  as  strong  and 
whose  burden  never  tires— skilled  with  rifle  and  rod 
grand  master  of  paddle  and  frying  pan,  clear  of  eye! 
and  steady  of  nerve,  whose  footprints  in  the  pathless 
forest  make  a  bee-line  to  destination— proposed  that 
he  and  Jack  Boyle,  a  fellow  guide  well  schooled  in 
woodcraft,  make  an  opening  in  the  ice  for  a  canoe,  and 
then  procee<l  to  chop  or  break  a  canal  through  the  ice 
and  for  the  rest  of  the  party  to  foUow  after  the  lapse 
of  a  couple  of  hours  when  they  would  probably  have 
a  thoroughfare  opened  to  the  opposite  shore.     This 
plan,  being  the  only  feasable  way  out  of  the  dilemma 
was  adopted  and  at  once  put  into  execution.     We  re- 
turned to  the  warm  farm  house  and  whiled  away  a 
generous  two  hours  and  then  embarked  in  frail  canoes 
and  followed  in  their  wake. 

The  ice  was  so  thick  it  could  not  be  broken  with  a 
pole,  and  with  an  axe  only  a  narrow  channel  could  be 
cut,  so  that  our  heavily  laden  canoes  had  to  be  pad- 
dled with  the  utmost  caution  to  prevent  the  sharp 
jutting  corners  of  ice  from  penetrating  their  thin  sides' 
and  giving  us  an  icy  bath,  and  possibly  sending  us  to 
the  bottom. 

Going  around  a  bend  about  a  mile  from  the  place 
of  departure  we  saw  the  ice  choppers  still  at  work  and 
a  very  considerable  part  of  the  task  yet  to  be  accora- 
pLshed.  We  overtook  them  and  were  chilled  to  the 
bones  before  we  reached  the  shore  an  hour  and  a  half 
later.  Packs  were  shouldered  and  the  trail  taken 
along  Clear  Water  stream  for  Camp  Taylor  some  ten 


320  (Jatkered  Waifleth. 

miles  beyona.  Ascending  the  etream  to  Ub  scree, 
w  reachid  the  summit  of  the  Boundary  Moun  a.ns 
between  Maine  and  the  Province  of  Quebec,  overlook- 
?„g  Ipider  and  Megantic  lakes  in  Canada  and  many 
miles  of  be""'='--  mountain  scenery  in  Maine. 

Our  trail  followed  the  crest  of  the  mountains  for 
seve:il  miles  and  furnished  suc^  wealth  o  panoramie 
splendor  a.  might  well  enhst  the  pencil  o^  "j"*  ""j 
the  pen  of  poets.  But  to  human  mind  and  human 
sk  IHt  is  not  given  to  adequately  portray  such  beauty 
In  loveliu..s,  and  fortunate  indeed  is  he  whose  priv- 
UegeTis  to'ga.e  upon  and  enjoy  such  fascinating 

Tsome  the  journey  may  seem  long  -d -ugh 
that  the  difficulties  and  hardships  to  -"^^"^  wUWn  1 
surmount  would  deaden,  if  not  ^^t^^S^f '  *^  .^^JX 
able  anticipations,  and  that  fatigue  ."ould  duU  the  ^g. 
of  romance,  but  he  whose  ear  is  attnn  d    "nature  s 
^vmohonies   and  whose   eye  appreciates   the  beauti 
ul   and  grand,   and  who  has  within  him  the  heart 
and  instincts  of  a  sportsman,  has  a  thousand  compen- 
sations  and  the  trip  ends  all  too  soon. 
Ting  over  a  ravine  we  encountered  an  enormous 
track  of  a  bear  around  which  we  gathered  and  noted 
hat  it  must  belong  to  an  animal  of  huge  P-po'^--- 
and  all  resolved  to  go  in  hot  pursuit  the  next  day.    The 
shadows  are  lengthening  and  we  hurry  o-  J**^^- 
say.  tarry,  but  enthusiasm  prevails,  and  soon  we  are  on 
the  downward  slope  toward  Moose  Kiver. 
*' Another  mile  and  a  half  and  we  -  "--^;^^;^ 
beaver  dam  now  in  possession  of  a  colonv  of  these 
^resting  H"adrupeds,  a  few  rods  beyo-d  -hf  ' 
Camp  Taylor,  our  haven  of  rest  and  abode  for  the 


Thahksoivinq  in  the  Woods.  321 

next  few  weeks,  hidden  away  in  the  forest  and  unknown 
to  all  save  its  very  few  owners  and  some  trusty  guides. 
A  roaring  Are  is  soon  giving  needed  warmth,  and  a 
cap  of  bullion  paves  the  way  for  a  well  earned  and 
bountiful  supper.  Far  away  as  it  is  from  sources  of 
supply,  Camp  Taylor  is  not  without  most  of  the  neces- 
sities and  many  of  the  luxaries  of  civilized  life,  and 
the  spring  mattresses  and  soft  woolen  blankets  were 
not  among  the  least  highly  prized. 

The  fatigue  resulting  from  the  unusual  experience 
of  the  past  few  days  was  so  great  that  an  adjourn- 
ment was  made  from  the  supper  table  to  bed,  nor  was 
any  practical  joker  inclined  to  indulge  iu  levity. 
Political  ambition,  financial  depression,  professional 
obligations  or  business  cares  troubled  not  the  dreams 
of  the  sleepers.  The  weather  had  moderated  during 
the  afternoon  and  night  and  with  the  break  of  day  the 
camp  resounded  with  the  enthusiasm  that  greeted  the 
announcement  that  six  inches  of  snow  had  fallen  dur- 
ing the  night  and  that  it  was  still  snowing.  This  pre- 
vented following  Bruin's  trail,  for  which,  no  doubt,  he 
was  thankful,  but  all  started  out  in  pursuit  of  moose, 
caribou  and  deer— the  three  members  of  the  party, 
each  with  a  guide,  taking  different  directions. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  snow  fell  thicker  and 
faster,  until  the  great  soft  snow  flakes  so  filled  th.^  air 
as  to  limit  the  vision  in  the  mountain  defiles  Lo  a  few 
yards,  and  at  mid-day  it  seemed  as  if  night  was  at  hand. 

It  was  a  slavish  day  to  be  out  and  all  made  an  early 
return  to  camp,  three  deer  having  been  seen  but  none 
were  killed.  The  storm  grew  in  volume  during  the 
night,  and  next  morning  it  was  snowing  in  such  abiin- 
uance  as  to  shut  out  the  view  of  a  neighboring  moun- 


I     ■:   i 


322  Gathekkd  Waifi-kth. 

tain  peak  not  a  mile  away.     It  seemed  as  if  a  large 
"all  might  be  made  by  simply  claBping  the  hands 

"Stison^t  .anted  for  theeampandaU  sallied 

forth  in  quest  of  the  coveted  game.         ,,    ,     , 

Well,  'perhaps  it  is  not  best  to  teU  all  the  happe- 
ings  of  that  day.  Some  things  are  too  ^^f^"^^ 
and  should  be  kept  as  family  secrets,  and  so  I  beheve 
^y  rtders  will  pardon  me  if  I  respect  th,s  cu«^om 
that  boasts  a  venerable  antiumty,  and  give  but  a  mere 
outline  of  this  day's  doings. 

...ecompaniedby  my  guide  ^  had  tramped  up  and 
down  the  mountain  side,  and  waUowed  and  iloundere 
about  in  soft  snow,  two  feet  deep  --^^^fl^'^^^'^^l 
mid^lay,  and  was  thoroughly  fatigued  w.th  the  exer 
tion  and  wet  with  sweatand  the  vast  quantity  of  snow 
dislodged  from  the  spruce  and  lir  trees,  now  benchng 
underls  weight  and  looking  like  huge  f^^^y^ 
mids,  without  getting  a  shot  or  seeing  anything  to  s^^oot 
Tt  so  I  informed  Jack  that  I  was  going  to  give  it  up 

-Z':f^:^  one  thing  that  Jack  likes  to  a. 
better  Wan  another,  after  pleasing  his  employer,  it  is 
r:::Wehismantobringinhisshareofgameto^^^^^^ 
Admiring  his  ambition  and  desire  m  this,  ""d  ^emng 
Hm  that  1  could  certainly  follow  my  tracks  back  to 
cip,  we  parted.  Jack  carrying  the  compass  and  1 

^tTaTme  everything  went  well  with  me,  but  1 
observed  that  the  tracks  were  rapidly  growing  ind.s- 
t^tl  snow  was  falling  so  fast,  and  so  dense  was  the 
ri  cloud  that  no  familiar  peak  or  mountain  top  was 
discernible  to  aid  in  locating  myself. 


"r 


TifANltsOIVISO    IN   THE    VVooDS.  323 

Hurrying  along  as  fast  as  my  «eary  legs  would  carry 
n  e  I  soon  am  ve.l  at  a  place  where  other  tracks  inte^ 

Bec.ted,an,l™ak,ngacloseexaminationlwaspu..le,ho 
know  wh,ch  were  mine,  ai:  being  well  HUert  w'ith  snow. 
D.scovenng  what  seeme.l  to  me  satisfactory  evi- 
<ien<.e  I  aga.n  took  the  trail  and  hurried  on.  Feelin  . 
entirely  con«dent  I  journeyed  on  and  on  until  I  «;. 
countered  a  bluff  an.l  a  great  windfall  around  which  the 

not  been  that  way  before,  and  that  I  was  upon  the 
wrong  tm,l  and  that  when  I  returned  to  the  place 
where  I  took  ,t  all  tracks  would  be  so  obliterated  thlt 
It  would  be  impossible  to  tell  one  track  from  another. 
l..Ke  a  flash  it  passed  through  my  min,l  that  I  would 
probably  have  to  pass  the  night  upon  the  trail,  an.l  I 
fel  in  every  pocket  for  matches.  Not  being  a  user 
of  tobacco  and  never  dreaming  of  such  a  contingency 
when  I  started  out,  I  found  none.  ^ 

Thinking  that  whoever  made  the  trail  which  I  wa^ 
following  might  still  be  within  hearing  distance,  I 
hred  the  signal  shots  agreed  upon  for  "help  wanted"- 
but  got  no  answer. 

Oathering  myself  together  I  started  back.  Ilurrv- 
ing  along  with  anything  but  pleasant  or  re-assuring 
thoughts  passing  through  my  mind  I  had  covered 
about  three-fourths  of  the  distance  when  I  saw  the  wel- 
come  form  of  Jack  coming  along  the  trail  He  had 
heard  my  signal  shots  and  answered  them,  but  the  wind 
being  unfavorable  for  me  and  his  rifle  of  smaller 
calibre  than  mine,  I  did  not  hear  them.  Jack  i",der- 
stands  human  nature  too  well  and  is  too  astute  a  diplo- 
mat  to  always  say  what  he  thinks,  and  so  his  innocent 
in.l'Jiry  now  was :     "What  did  you  shoot  at  3" 


I 


I',    I 


M;: 


824 


i 


Gathbsro  WAirt»TS. 

,,,2  Mil.  ..  «..  Itob  .b=  b™«lly  ..tol,  H.V. 

into  camp  the  very  personification  of  desponae     y 

"Luf-B  very  tacit„i-n  and  reticent,  but  after  much 
good  t  red  grilliu.  and  cha«ug  he  was  asked  w  ere 
L  had  beenaU  day  anyway  to  keep  un.  » J  -  IJ^^* 
night,  he  reluctantly  and  curtly  replied.  Oh,  just  up 
there  in  the  edge  of  the  woods.  •      ^.    t  it 

This  answer^as  so  transparent  and  evasive  tuat  , 
became  a  standing  jest  during  the  remainder  of  the 
trip  and  it  found  a  place  on  our  Thanksgiving  bill  of 
fare  by  way  of  embellishment. 


ThANKSOIVIXO    in   TH8    WooDH.  32ri 

.'endiflff  to  mitigate  the  misadventure  of  the  day 
Harry  made  the  best  shot  of  the  trip.  Locating  a 
deer  far  up  on  the  mountain  side  looking  directly  at 
him  he  took  hasty  aim  and  planted  his  bnllet  exactly 
in  the  median  line  wherr  cho  t,eok  joins  the  body. 
The  bullet  passed  directly  tl.rough  the  heart  and  out 
under  the  tail,  the  deer  falling  dead  in  its  tracks. 
They  attempted  to  bring  the  (juarry  to  camp  but 
had  to  abandon  it  because  of  tlie  severity  of  the 
storm. 

Ilerb  and  Latty  went  out  ne.tt  morning  and  brought 
It  in,  Latty  finding  that  Jloose  river  was  not  Jloose 
river  because  it  was  turned  around  and  running  tlie 
wrong  way  "up  in  the  edge  of  the  woods  !" 

It  was  still  snowiug  but  with  abated  fury,  and  the 
hunters  were  content  to  spen.l  tlie  morning  liours  in 
camp  enjoying  a  much  needed  rest;  but  two  more 
deer  fell  to  different  rifles  before  night. 

The  succeeding  day  broke  clear  and  cold,  tlie  curl- 
ing smoke  from  our  cozy  camp  was  soon  lost  to  view, 
the  bark  on  the  trees  snapped  u  ith  the  keen  frost,  the 
forest  seemed  dressed  as  a  bride  in  costliest  laces, 
whicli  the  rising  sun  decked  out  with  gorgeous,  spark- 
ling gems,  and  all  were  enraptured  with  the  beauty, 
stillness  and  grandeur  of  the  scene. 

Much  as  summer  camps  may  be  enjoyed  and  praised, 
lie  has  missed  much  novel  and  pleasant  e.vperience 
who  has  never  had  the  pleasure  of  a  sojourn  in  tlie 
wilderness  when  the  snows  of  winter  still  tlie  footfall 
and  nature  sleeps. 

As  the  day  wore  on  one  hunter  and  a  guide,  tlien 
another  pair,  took  their  departure,  and  lastly  the 
writer  and  Jack  sallied  forth. 


;12«  Gatiikbkd  Waiflisth. 

Going  but  a  short  distance  from  camp,  following 
tlie  course  of  a  mountain  brook  ilown  to  a  beaver 
pond,  we  came  upon  a  birch  tree  nine  inches  through 
and  some  sixty-Hve  feet  long,  that  had  been  cut  down 
the  night  before  by  the  bepver.  We  had  encountered 
many  of  tlieir  cuttings  almost  every  day  but  had  never 
before  seen  any  tree  so  large  as  this  felled  by  these 
intelligent  ro<lent8.  Human  skill  could  not  better 
plan  to  fall  the  tree,  nor  to  fall  it  just  where  it  was 
wanted.  The  principal  gash  had  been  cut  more  than 
half  way  through  the  trunk  upon  the  side  on  which  it 
was  to  fall,  an<l  upon  the  opposite  side  a  smaller  gash 
was  cut  higher  up,  fel''nK  t'le  tree  directly  between 
two  other  large  trees,  into  one  of  which  it  must  have 
lodged  had  it  varied  but  a  few  feet  either  way  in  its 

descent. 

After  duly  admiring  for  some  time  the  patience  and 
skill  manifeste<l  here,' Jack  at  my  suggestion  returned 
to  camp,  procured  the  saw  and  sawed  out  a  section 
sliowing  the  cutting,and  it  has  now  a  conspicuous  place 
in  my  valued  collection  of  trophies  of  the  trip. 

The  others  of  the  party  returned  to  camp  with  two 
magnificent  bucks  and  a  splendid  bull  caribou,  when 
hilarity  and  good  cheer  reigned  supreme. 

Thanksgiving  was  drawing  near  and  our  chef  was 
instructed  to  do  the  occasion  honor  and  to  tax  to  his 
utmost  the  resources  of  the  camp.  AVhether  or  not 
he  succeeded  we  will  leave  our  readers  to  decide 
when  they  have  read  the  Menu,  which  was  emblazoned 
upon  white  birch  bark  and  suspended  above  the  table 
and  which  is  reproduced  here. 

With  but  a  single  exception,  every  dish  and  article 
thereon  was  served,  and  all  received  due  attention. 


TiiAjfKsdivi.vo  i.v  TiiK  Woods.  jio; 

frol...  of   L«  tnp  *     Kvery  incident  ha,!  an  iu.Iivi,!, 

overtax  the  patien.'e  of  my  readers. 

To  sum  up  briefly  our  two  ueeks  of  camp  life  in 
e  deep  «„o„.s  and  cold  of  Winter  was  made  uj  .f 
n  fro  u.  and  .nc.lent  whi.-I,  grew  with  the  .lays  and 

.  n    tim    ':   '""  "  """:'  ■•—•—  tl.e  most'pleas- 
ant  time  we  ever  spent  in  oamp. 

Our  unconventional  life  and  unusual  e.vercise  soon 

ea  y  he  task  which  at  first  wo.d.I  seem  impossible. 
The   fascma  ,ons   of  our  environment,  the   absolute 

«oods,  the  deheate  tracery  of  the  evergreens  an.l 
towenng  crest  trees,  lent  an  added  charm  an.l  ma^^ 
a  beautiful  picture  of  the  woods  in  Winter 

bull  ear  bou.  Slaughter  being  the  lesser  object  sought 
our  killing  was  much  less  than  it  might'have  been 
AVe  en,^ea^■ored  to  spare  all  females  an.l  those  killed 
would  not  have  been  shot  had  their  sex  been  known 

bufwhfr  '""  ^""  '?  ''"""^*'"*  lordly  bull  moose, 
but  while  we  were  in  their  country  of  "at  home,"  and 
saw  their  tracks  several  times,  the  continued  snow 
blotted  out  at  night  the  trail  picke.l  up  and  followed 
during  the  day  and  so  we  got  n.,ne.  But  this  will  be 
an  impelling  incentive  to  another  trip  „nd  will  give 
added  zest  to  antieip^Mon. 

Cheery  Bob  Phillips,  superinten.lent  of  the  Megan  tic 

preserves,  did  us  the  hon..r  .,f  accepting  the  hospLity 
of  Camp  Taylor  during  the  last  few  days  of  our  stay 


.,2s  Gath««d  Waiflcw. 

.„a  to  .how  bin.  o„  .pp««i.;;^o'  ^» -^::::-i: 

.nd  pn^nce,  -^  ^^^^^J^^^t  put  upon  hi.  .houl- 
T^r  ''ie.  o7  veni  on  weighing  eighty-flve 
der.  two  f»<^'"«'«  "'  ^^„  the  mountain  trail  to 

p„nn.i.  and  carry  them  »°*  "J*'  j,,  ,„««  ten  or 

Z  Chain  of  Pond,  the  l'"l«/  '^^'^i  ^  hi„.,  and 
,  dozen  mile..    Such  honor.  "^W""^^"  j,^^  t;,  ,i»tion 

he  i.  .o  highly  P;-«\;t .f  «ei ty  he  wear,  a 
know,  no  bound.,  but  M.  De.  j_^^ 

decided  b"'"P"P""^\''t"''17;ed"any  a  beautiful 
„u,  experiment,  '^-l"  .^^  ^^^  othe«  may  proftt 
character,  ■^^^"^f'^^^:'lZe,t  and  Stream,  D. 
by  and  avoid  our  mi.taKes. 

ember  1, 1S94. 


THE  POETRY  OF  ANGLING- 


■T  i.  not  all  of  Ashing  to  fish;' 


To  some  this 
i'V  ^^r:etran"ra;;;uble  a..ertion,  but 

1     r.ry'^H.nowaccep^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
pre..ion  of  a  fact  having  aU  the  for^  ^^^^^^^ 

In  patriarchal  and  -« J«va    t  m        ^.^.^^  ^^^^. 

was  accorded  -/«°7^\£  to  earn  a  livelihood 
tions  then  open  to  man  in  which  ^.^  ^^^^^ 

for  himself  and  'W^^'l^f  ^'  *»';^  ^.^^ed  localities, 
added  to  the  « ""-^/"PP^^  J^*  Ifll,  the  seWsh  and 
The  gratification  of  -«>■«  ^"J'^^^XC  then  a.  now, 
mercenary  alone  prompting,  doubtle. 


Thk  Poktrt  or  Anolino. 


320 


when  higher  motives  Ho  not  impel,  made  the  fliher 
mon  a  mere  laborer,  where  work  waa  an  irksome  task, 
and  whoie  only  enjoyment  waa  meaaured  by  flnanoial 
reaults. 

There  waa  but  little  healthy  sentiment  in  an  age 
when  might  made  right,  and  when  it  was  the  plan  : 

"That  they  should  tiike  who  have  the  power. 

And  they  should  kwp  who  oan." 

Of  such  a  fisherman  it  may  truthfully  be  affirmed  : 
"It  is  all  of  Ashing  to  flsh"  — 

"A  priniroHf  by  the  river'n  brim 

A  primrose  is  to  him,  and  nothing  more." 

But  with  the  evolution  of  societj-,  and  the  ascen- 
dancy of  principle  over  might  in  government,  the 
selfish  and  animal  in  our  nature  was  .inielioratcd  and 
softened,  and  the  wholly  selfish  whs  largely  domina- 
ted by  the  lesthetic  and  sentimental— the  vocation  has 
become  an  avocation. 

In  no  direction  is  this  uplifting  and  ennobling  of 
humanity  more  easily  discerned  and  traced  than  in 
what  is  now  comprehended  under  the  very  general  term 
of  sportsmanship,  and  in  no  subdivision  thereof  is  the 
vrail  so  well  defined  as  in  that  blazed  by  the  angler. 

The  older  poets  sing  his  praises  and  accortl  him 
honorable  distinction  in  their  immortal  works,  and  in 
the  early  dawn  of  English  literature  appeared  what 
competent  writers  and  judges  pronounce  the  leading 
pastoral  classic  in  our  language,  "The  Compleat  Ang- 
ler," by  Iziak  A\'alton. 

Overworked  professional  and  business  men  found 
then,  as  they  find  now,  recreation,  pleasure  and  re- 
newed energy  in  the  sights  which  come  to  their  eyes 
and  the  sounds  that  fall  pleasantly  on  their  ears,  and 


ijl 
ij 


.^30  Gathbbbd  Waiflets. 

who  wiU  wonder  that  the  contents  of  the  cr.el  is  the 

less  valued  part  ?  , .     j  ^orite 

the  maple  and  the  ^"«  7*^' 1 J  Weep- 
H.  that  nature  ^^^^^^^^^n^^  -  *^«  ^P^ 

„™«  liVe  HTirinff  8  tnumpnal  note  oi  juy- 

Jh  ..cha»p  tapir.™.  "••™i<'»«™^^^. 

the  meadow.  fisherman  hastens 

The  morning  grows  apace  but  ""^;^"« 
1-      i.  „„      r'rnusinir  a  stone  wall,  wuicii  i^o" 
not  his  steps,     t-rossing  a  ^^^ 

through   a   growth   of   mountain    laurel    an 


Thb  Poetry  of  ANotmo.  33] 

birches,  he  sees  the  beautiful  pink  buds  of  the  may- 
flower  peepmg  out  from  under  the  belated  snowbank 
M  If  ,n  protest  to  winter's  cruel  restraint,  and  as  if  to' 

aUotted  place  m  the  sequence  of  flowew  attendant  upon 
the  ides  of  spring.  ' 

Journeying  down  the  gentle  declivity,  where  nature 
a  little  later  will  carpet  the  ground  with  beautiful  vio- 
ets  and  modest  anemone,  his  friend  of  former  years- 
the  hepatica-attracts  his  eye,  and  putting  forth  his 
hand  to  remove  some  encroaching  grass,  a  meadow 
mouse  scampers  suddenly  away  in  fright  at  the  un- 
wonted  intrusion. 

But  the  music  of  the  rippling  brook  now  claims  his 
undivided  attention,  and  hastening  footsteps  soon 
bnng  him  again  to  its  margin.  The  fringe  of  green 
grass  close  up  on  either  side  and  the  nodding  water 
cress  in  its  peUucid  depths  tell  him  that  nature's  forces 
have  been  at  work  for  some  time  past. 

He  marvels  at  the  restful  murmur  of  the  rippling 
brook,  at  Its  tiny  wavelets  and  miniature  cascades,  and 
he  wonders  when  they  thus  began,  and  how  long  they 
will  continue.  Such  a  smaU  streamlet !  and  ever  run- 
ning  from  nowhere  somewhere-ever  running,  ever 
singing,  ever  flowing,  ever,  e-.-er! 

Our  fisherman's  rod  was  stiU  unjointed,  and  his 
mind  reveled  in  the  delights  and  enchantments  of  the 
scene  until  he  was  caUed  back  to  the  work  in  hand  by 
the  knding  of  a  mink  on  the  bank  a  little  below  him 
with  a  beautiful  trout  in  his  mouth,  which  he  soon  de- 
voured  for  his  morning  meal.  It  dawned  upon  him 
that  the  quadruped  mink  has  his  counterpart  in  some 
biped  men  who  look  not  above  the  gratification  of 


t   '{I 
<   1 1; 


f  ■  ■ ;    1 


it 


9  i    ^ 

i 

■I 


332  Gathebbd  Waiflets. 

the  BelflBh  and  Bordid,  and  who  respect  not  saluta^ 
human  enactments.  From  lonK  "^r^^^'fil'Jan 
knew  the  skiU  and  success  of  the  mink  as  a  fisherman 
nor  could  he  withhold  a  modicum  of  admiration  for 
his  diBcernment  and  good  tast.  in  showing  his  prefer- 
ence  for  the  toothsome,  gamy  trout  ,.    ^  ,    „„,, 

His  rod  is  now  assembled,  the  reel  adjusted   and 
aw!;  gres  his  lure  dancing  lively  before  him  down 
the  Learn.    He  skillfuUy  directs  it  ^"-"'17^ 
carefully  restrains  it  as  it  engages  >»  f/  J^^J J^^ 
plunges  to  the  pool  below,  steals  ^^^fj..^^^^^^^ 
alonz  so  that  no  concussion  or  jar  wiU  f»Uo«^  ^""""^l 
to  dfsturb  the  wary  trout,  redoubles  his  best  efforts  a^^ 
the  overhanging  bank  at  the  bend,  in  the  open  meadow 
keeps  1  to  away  from  the  brook  as  possible,  and 
Sno^  allow  his  shadow  to  fall  athwart  the  stream 
S  who  Bhall  say  that  our  fisherman  has  not  eanied 
and  does  not  deserve  the  beautiful  trout  which  he  so 
caifuUy  takes  from  their  bed  of  moss  in  his  creel  and 
I^ngelsidebysideuponthegrassintheordero^^^^^^^^^^^ 

•  ;i,ot  V.ia  «ves  mav  feast  thereon  while  he  eats  nis 
Toly  mea  ot  the'sunny  side  of  the  old  abutment 
wMch  sustains  the  rustic  bridge  that  spans  the  brook 

^"SeTui'exerciseand  lengthy  walk  result  in  a 
fat  gue  that  our  fisherman  woiUd  call  exquisite;  for 
wS  the  physical  man  gladly  gives  way  to  needed 
Test  the  mental  is  as  buoyant  and  elastic  as  in  school- 

boy's  merriest  day.  Umitad  to 

The  enjoyments  of  his  nooning  are  not  lim  ted  to 

the  conventional  hour,  and  already  the  sun  is  aslant  in 

te  heavens  before  he  resumes  his  pleasant  occupa^ 

tion     At  each  bend  of  the  brook  a  new  panorama 


Ax  Opting  WiTHoni  Rod  or  Gun.         338 

meets  hiB  eyes.  Clouds  of  fleecy  whiteness  scud  athwart 
the  luminous  blue  of  heaven's  dome,  and  the  sontr  of 
the  vesper  sparrow  swells  the  growing  volume  of  mel- 
ody that  greets  the  return  of  spring. 

As  a  reward  of  his  skill  and  perseverance  a  well 
filled  creel  is  already  his,  and  ere 

"The  sun  descending  dyes  the  clouds  in  crimson" 
he  reels  in  and  turns  his  steps  homeward. 

Age  has  laid  a  heavy  hand  upon  the  friend  of  his 
eariy  years  who  gave  him  his  first  lessons  in  the  gen- 
tie  art,  and  now  his  many  thoughtful  acts  of  kindness 
return  unto  him  as  bread  cast  upon  the  waters.  Our 
fisherman  finds  it  a  pleasure  to  make  a  long  detour  to 
call  at  his  humble  home  and  pleasantly  while  away  a 
reminiscent  hour,  and  to  leave  behind  some  choice 
specimens  of  his  day's  catch.  A  generous  share  of 
the  balance  is  left  with  a  convalescent  friend,  and  he 
reaches  home  in  the  early  evening  hour  at  peace  with 
himself  and  all  the  world. 

Who  shall  say  that  his  day  was  misspent,  and  that 
It  18  all  of  fishing  to  fish  i— Forest  and  Stream,  April 
11,  1896, 


t-y  ill 


AN  OUTING  WITHOUT  ROD  OR  GUN. 


In  Holy  AVrit  we  read  of  the  creation  of  the  binls 
of  the  air,  the  animals  of  the  forests  and  the  fishes  of 
the  sea;  and  in  human  enactments  we  find  laws  for 


)k-l 


I  . 


1  i 

\     ■  -■ 
\ 

\\ 


I- 


!) 


334  Gathered  Waitlets. 

one  aitj'    "  J  „,  „*  tli«  mountains  ana  tne 

'°  '"'"'  .C.m»™..  with  k«  .i.M.  fo".'- 

but  incidents  in  hia  outing  and  the  Kiiung  u 

*"ilr;S:%'spenanac.annt.e^^^^^^^^^^ 
the  BweetneB.  of  hi.  song,  ^^^l^^^^oiTZ 

business  walks  of  life— as  nnioi  •   ^-,i_tion  and 

:lin:s.X"=;in'':>r»- .itb 


An  Outino  Without  Rod  or  Gun.         3;i5 

accustomed  comer  in  the  drawer  of  the  cabinet  •  but 
sportsmanship  knows  no  law  of  limitations  nor  is 
sportsmanship  suppressed  though  taking  life  may  not 
be  permitted. 

The  days  of  spring  with  their  genial  warmth  and 
bursting  forth  of  new  life  may  not  be  with  ns ;  the 
wealth  and  beauty  of  landscape  and  pastoral  scenes  of 
summertime  have  passed  away ;  the  purple  grapes  and 
ripened  chestnuts  have  been  garnered:  and  another 
season  clad  in  robes  of  sombre  brown  ushered  in  to 
take  their  place  in  the  warp  and  woof  of  the  swift 
pasBingyear;— these,  all  these  and  much  more  pass 
and  repass  in  silent  review  until  some  mind  jolt 
stops  the  machinery.  The  delicate  thread  of  thought 
IS  thus  as  ruthlessly  broken  asunder  as  is  the  silvery 
silken  spider's  web  by  a  gentle  passing  breeze.  Such 
reverie,  however  captivating,  is  "aU  beginning,  all 
middle,  and  end  everywhere." 

In  this  snowless  month  of  winter  we  saunter  fortu 
at  mid-day  and  we  shall  see  what  we  feel.  The  sun  is 
aslant  in  the  heavens  and  its  weakened  rays  proclaim 
that  Boreas  has  buckled  on  his  armor  and  is  waging 
teUing  conflict  The  horizon  is  buttressed  with  murky 
snow-laden  clouds.  A  belated  flock  of  wild  geese  fly 
swiftly  past— their  not  unmusical  honking  falling 
pleasantly  upon  the  ear. 

We  are  no  longer  young  and  so  make  a  detour  to  the 
bars  in  the  stone  wall,  and  thread  our  way  up  the  gently 
sloping  hillside  to  the  summit  of  a  neighboring  hill. 
The  pathway  through  shrubbery  and  wooded  copse 
will  revesl  many  things  of  interest,  and  the  many 
pleasing  panoramas  revealed  from  the  summit  of  the 
simple  though  artistic  beauty  of  the  nearby  and  dis- 


f    i 


iJ,    J! 


I'M 

Ij  ! 


33fl  Gathkrbd  Waiflbts. 

,     ,  ^A  ♦».«  tidv  homes  of  comfort,  will 

tent  landscape  and  the  tiay  nom  .     j   ^„d 

hazel,  that  anomaly  among  shrubs  wn       p 

blossoms  after  the  frosts  and  ^f  Vji^^^'Jf^ii.ge. 

killed  and  denuded  the^r  l^^-^e  of  «1J  *«-  ^       «  ^ 

,i,b  .h.  .tote  .1  w  r'~^.,l*  r  ~  «.»  bii, 

P'»^» '«»"'""''•;"  t«nu..b  .1  ~idl.b 

gray  f«r  in  a  little  clump  oi  .^j^g 

joiced  that  no  sportsman's  weapon  -"^  ^"'    ^^  .^e 


An  Opting  Without  Rod  ob  Gun.  837 
ing  "»P»ation  we  reach  the  Bnmmit  and  our  eyes 
are  gladdened  at  the  .imple  beauty  that  is  ou«  in 

tte„r  Tk  ^'^  --Pl»ininK  -ind,  crooning  a 
threnody  ,n  the  treetops,  falls  not  unpleasantly  uL 
onr  ears  but  the  declining  sun  forbids  us  to  ta^ 
V^  e  must  call  again  upon  the  rippling  brook  upon  the 
opposite  side  before  winter  hushes  its  melody  Tn  its 
icy  embrace.  •' 

We  journey  onward  and  downwanl  and  find  plenty 
to  achnire  in  the  brillia.t  red  of  the  winter  berries 
«.d  bittersweet  in  their  dark  green  setting  of  scrub 
pine  and  wa..y  mountain  laurel,  and  the  graceful  trac 
.ng  of  the  naked  branches  of  the  shrubbery  which 

Juufr  •"  r"'""'  P'"'"'''"'-  ^"^^  bluejay  sounded 
his  unmusical  protest  at  our  intrusion,  and  a  wood- 
pecker  beat  a  tattoo  upon  a  neighboring  tree  We 
reach  the  brookside  and  seek  in  its  marge  amid  a 
groupof  alders  and  white  birches  for  our'old  Lng 
biUed  friend  the  woodcock.  He  is  not  at  his  old 
homeandwedee.de  that  he  must  have  gone  to  his 
southern  haunts  if  he  was  fortunate  enough  to  escape 
ills  ruthless  enemy,  the  pot-hunter 

We  follow  the  brook  in  its  winding  course,  by 
dim.nut.ve  cataract  and  miniature  whirlpoo;  through 
ow  wooded  and  bushy  growth,  over  tussock  and 
through  ooze,  under  a  canopy  of  untutored  grape  vines 
and  riotous  wild  clematis,  until  it  peeps  out  from  the 
rank  growth  and  expands  into  the  meadow  brook,  in 
the  bends  and  pools  of  which  the  gamy  trout  love  to 
make  the.r  home.  Here  is  where  the  modest  hepatica 
.8  the  first  of  flowers  to  salute  the  spring,  and  just  be- 
yond  IS  where  anemone  and  violet  carpet  the  ground 
with  their  wealth  of  bloom. 


1 


I    I 


ii  • 

11:.! 


jjgg  Gaihbbkd  Waifliits. 

children  perchance  who  have  gone  ou    >^^  ^  '^^_ 
day  and  that  we  must  hasten  our  footstepB.    The  time, 


An  Oiiwo  WttaovT  Bod  oit  Ovx.  339 

like  a  Bununer 's  day,  ha.  flown  -  flown  as  gently  as  if 

a  sterling  took  noiseless  wing  from  a  slender  limb- 

by  Its  genUe  motion  only  know  we  that  he  is  gone 

We  cross  the  meadow  and  through  the  pasture  to 

^rowsln"", '*"""••.  ^''  "•*  "^"y  «»««  ""'the  wind 
grows  in  vo  ume  and  smites  the  still  adherent  leaves 
upon  the  oak  only  to  be  answered  by  their  sullen  re- 
monstrance and  noisy  protest.    The  lagging  wing  of 
he  crow  takes  on  increased  speed  asTe  Lks^hU 
home  m  the  pine  woods  beyond.    The  voices  of  day 
die  out  and  as  night  approaches  a  hushed  stillness 
broods  over  Nature.    The  pasture  is  desolate  and  bare 
and  the  few  neglected  cattle  look  disconsolate  as  they 
browse  upon  the  twigs  or  nibble  at  the  close  cropped 
stubble.    Day  has  departed  and  as  e.ening  gathers 
a  light  IS  seen  in  the  distent  farm  house  telling  of 
human  presence,  humble  comforts,  friendly  assurance 
and  oflfenng  simple  welcome  and  hospitality  which 
bnng  a  realizing  sense  of  good  cheer,  and  the  help- 
lulness  of  human  fellowship. 

And  here  again  is  teught  with  added  emphasis  that 
the  dmne  Imminence  abides  in  the  dark  and  sorrow- 
ful places  of  life  when  the  spirit  is  saddened  and  we 
seem  alone -alone,  forsaken  and  sorrowful  -  when 
the  varied  and  pleasant  flelds  of  life  have  become  a 
barren  plain  without  a  flower  to  give  them  variety, 
beauty  and  fragrance  -  be  it  near,  be  it  far,  in  station 
high  or  low  -  and  as  night  draws  on  and  darkness  im- 
pends dmne  solicitude  enfolds,  comforts  and  brightens 
the  dark  spots  even  as  the  light  sends  out  its  rays 
from  the  humble  home,  and  a  guiding  hand  to  uplift 
and  support  is  extended 

"  Prom  out  the  encircling  gloom." 


'    fl 


I 


340  OaTHEBED    WMFI.ET8. 

.„»in  T.u8»ed  the  Htile  and  regained  our 
But  we  Imve  again  P"««f  \  afternoon  spent  in 

beartlmtone,  well  eoi'f"*/;"     "r  Kun.-fi^'rf   ....d 
Nature'H   lmunt«  without  rod   or  gun. 
Stream,  December,  1893. 


THE 


MONARCH   OF   BUTTERMU.K   BARREN'. 


^UTTERMI.K  BARREN  w^njadedur^^ 
K   last  glacial  epod..  and  U  us tu  g         ^^^^^  ^^ 
•^   wilds  of  New  Brunswck.     "  '''        ,    ,^„    ,„„i 

colloquially  Buttermilk  ^arr      't  ^  „„,      „e 

Barren  it  will  be.    There  are  nian>  othu  s, 
Buttermilk  Barren.  ,„,„■,,   the  grandeur  and 

The  chain  of  distant  "'"">";-  '^^  ^„„,  „f  ..,cit- 
stillness  of  the  surrounding  * -"  •,*'\''„;„.ifleent  tro- 
ing  and  thrim"K  ".l-"tu   ^  •  .1  fe^^  ^  «^  ^^^^  ^^^^^,„ 

pWes  secure.l  upon   *«  eN  "  «  ^^...^i,,^  „aven- 

^hy.    Fortunate  indeed  is  tu  N  ^^^^^^^^_^  ^^^^^^ 

ture  and  ambitious  fo    ^^^         ^.^  ,p„ti,«H  an.l 

high  art  in  repousse  an.     '    -^'^     !      j^,  ^.^eolic  name. 

sparkling  snow  that  «'-      -"^^Vh    not  .listant  past 

Such  was  my  «-;  j^  *"  ^.^i^.e  to  the  solitudes 
when  the  snows  of  winter  fec  ^^  ^,,^ 

,„,,  «ent  the  erratic  canbo  n  t  ^^   ^P  ^,^^, 

whole  extent. 


Tl.B  M„.VA1,CU.UF  Bu-TTHWItH  BaRHE.V.  .'Ul 

Buttormilk  Burr....,  like  most  other  barrens  is 
H..U  Helj.  overKrow,,  will,  „tu..te.l  spruce,  gZrZ^n^ 
»"«l'«pel.v,  the  l,r,,.,ehes  uf  which  ire  ^ 

"Bearde,l^„i„,  ,„o,«,  „„,,  i„  „.„„„„,  ^^^^„   ,„,.^,.  ,^.^  .__  ^,^^ 

iSlii:K^h!:-S'i;=-lffi^^^^^^^^ 

'   "'"'' "'"«S  ''clieiis  H...I  other  arctic  and  snh 

n.  co„to,.r  Butter,„ilk  Barn.,,  n.s..,„l.le.s  «  hu«e  pair 
.^e-Klu«.ses.     It  i.s  su.roun.le,!  hy  three  mZtak 
lu   ce.,t.al  one  pe„et.ati.,g  ainu.st  across  the  barren 
"";    ;"'">•'>■  ,hvi.li.„,  it  i„to  two  of  nearly  e<,ual    L" 

."■:;:/■;  ;:;t;t;;re::;:,r;=-,:r;; 

l.ml  bee,,  snccessfully  ,,,„,.  „„„„  j,,,  .,„„t  ;^-„  J^  ^ 
sha.nbles  !,„,,  g,.o„,,.,|  ,,it,,  „,„  well-ea„e,l    roX  of 

;;;:o|r^,..^ts.,.„  „f  th,.  pa,.ty,  the  f.,„  ,in,ir:£: 

">   law.     Their  huge  ca.easses  n,a,h.  a  weinl  „ictu.-o 
n-  moonhKht,  an.l  their  shadows  silhouette.]  up  «  "  e 

II,  he  of  the  ,n.Khty  spreading  antlers,  he  who  was 
the  target  of  the  shrewdest,  the  „,ost  per.'is  ent  In. 
sk.lh..l  sp,.rts,„a„  an.l  ,„arks.„an  of  these  so   tu"  es  -^ 
""•  """  of  all  othe,.s  n,ost  .les.re.l  an.l  sou^t   "ter 


rffi 


•ii  i 


'I  1 


3^  OAtaute  WAin*!*- 

and  of  whom  ittoort  f.b«io«.  ^iTj^'j^f  ^;;;!; 

roamed  the  .urrounding  '«"•»  ^tX^-' •«^'- 
wigoathedl    Here  wa*  a  'r""""  ^  hL,,  m«t  we 

SHonfimTo^  f actotem  and  -P --^[.--l 
(Jy  in  bU  oft  expreBBed  »P'7^^*;«  ,'  J^ti^e. 
wthout  number  —  his  Toyai  "»  ,^^4^ 

life,  and  that  Bomething  '°°'?.*''»°  "*.  'tW.  wa« 
L  t  be  resorted  to  to  ensure  h.s  ««P^'*;  J^^J'" 
lly  phoo-phooed  at  by  my  oompamonB.  »«t  knowing 
?,     -..nt^Lpts  and  whims  of  hunters  and  gwdes,  1 

i«d|!.n.«  .p|.ro.«l,  P~"MW! "  W  I*"  "  "  """ 

that  united  in  ms  person.  u.^i'  —  andhis 


*   M 


TlIU   MONAHCH   OK    BtTTKRMILIt    BaRRKN.       34S 

man  to  he  alone,"  he  joine<l  hi.  fortune,  to  «  copper 
cokred  ^  en„.  in  the  wood,,  and  Lacky  Dan  i.  .Tv 
mg  proof  of  the  union.  The  national  trait,  of  wit  .nj 
whrthel"    7"  ^'T'"*^  '^  "■"  father,  bi; 

mearo7    ll^^  ","'"*'  "".  '"'''  P^-y^^K-omy  and  de- 
meanor.     Hi,  won],  were  few  and  apposite. 

W  e  are  aU  born  but  not  .lead  yet"  wa,  hi,  freauent 

tS  t""*'""  ^"^  "'  -^'""^  "••'■»«  tl'-e-,  life 
Lucky  Dan  had  been  secured  from  a  distance  for 

archof  Butermilk  barren  were  numbered.  Casting 
lot,  for  choice  of  location  for  hunting  on  the  bamn  ^ 
w«,  the  good  fortune  of  my  companion  to  win  ami  he 
very  naturally  choo,e  the  leeward  end.  Somewhll 
downcast  we  started  out,  my  companion  ancriuide 
making  a  long  detour  to  the  farther  end  of  the  bl^en 
o  as  to  have  the  wind  in  their  favor.  Setting  S 
in  the  opposite  direction  I  gave  expression  to  my  2 

time  I  was  somewhat  comforted  and  reassured  At 
Lucky  Dan's  "We  are  all  bom  but  not  did  yet  " 
But  travel  cautiously  as  we  might,  a  puff  of  wind 
seemed  always  seeking  an  opportunity  to  annoy  us 
by  speeding  down  the  barren  an.l  destroying  any 
hance  of  getting  a  shot  in  the  most  likely  places 
^>eems  as  if  the  holes  in  the  clouds  were  all  in  the 

small?^".'"'"^'"  "■"  ^"'"^^  ^""'^  -"-k  whe  : 
small  herd  o  two  cows  an.I  a  small  bull,  that  we  had 
patH^ntly  stalked  for  a  long  time,  caught  our  scent 
Willie  out  of  range  and  wildly  dashed  away.     To  these 


a 


j''^^ 


i    J- 


r    :i 


ill  i 

'    i: 


344  GaTHBBKD    WAIFLBT8. 

a,„  *.  .tad  b„k.  a,.  .»u»«.  •"!  *»  ~.;» 

■•'sr^rXta.*  <.- '« -r  ^T. 

xiaviuft  nearer  to  tne 

Lucky  Dan  «"gg««  «J,  f  "/^^  a  more  attractive 

which  to   recon^oter^     We  had  «««»« '^  1^"^«  """" 
earry,  we  started  aW   JJ^/^^^^^,  „,„by  sharp 

.  „lg  .h.t  .«  lr«»  ■"  *•  7„  ,.  „,,,/„  „d 

.,,    u  ^,  l,i«  verv  eood  counterpart,  lea  in 

terinilk  barren,  or  nis  very  gu" 

the  van ! 


The  Monarch  of  Buttbrmilk  Barren.     345 
Neither  the  eight  beatitndeB,  the  comforting  words 

llif-    ?  V"'  ""'^  ^■""'"y  ^''hool  lessons  lere  «, 
called  just  then,  but but i  [ 

Tension  *as  relieved,  if  my  feelings  were  not  wholly 
assuaged,  when  I  learned  that  my  companio7ulaiv 
holdiug,  deadly  rifle,  had  made'two  in'effe  t  JZ/s 
at  h.s  majesty,  which  tended  to  conflrm  the  generaUv 
accepted   op.nion  that  he  led  a  charmed  exTsten  I 

We  had  roamed  the  woods  too  much,  experienced 

f  srer'nl-*""  '"^^^'  ""'  '"^^^'^  the' blended  ;:p 
of  success  and  disappointment  too  n,any  times  to  let 

he  untoward  depress  and  embitter,  .lllk^y 
.ieparture  that  n  ght  to  the  land  of  dreams  trying  to 

rttar;:;? ''"'"'"'•'^^'^^-'^ "-'-""  •'"™'- 

Tired  from  tlie  unusual  fatigue  of  „„,.  first  day's 
adventure,  the  following  morning  was  well  advanced 
before  «-e  turned  out  to  do  justice  to  our  coolc's  ample 
an.'  toothsome  breakfast  of  young  caribou  steakTrS 
o..ons,  potatoes  an  natureU  hot  corn  meal  muffins  and 
creamery  butter,  and  fragrant  coffee,  that  would  extort 
praise  from  an  old  connoisseur. 

The  morning  sun  shone  gloriously  above  the  tree 
ops  and  not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  the  mosses  on   he 

no  wfnd?"- r  ."'  '''  '''"''''•    '^  "-'"^  *'--  -"Mb 
llr  wouw"    *^r--«''— -^ '-  massive  antlered 

"  ith  all  the  courage  and  assurance  born  of  seem- 
mg  certainty  we  saUied  forth ;  but  returning  to  camp 
m  he  darkening  shadows  of  night,  we  were  sadly  re 
minded  of  a  very  old  saying  that  is  too  well  known  to 


ill 


\' 


t 


1! 


I.i  i: 


f  -  ;i 


346  Gathered  Waiflets. 

need  repetition  here,  and  that  we  reckoned  without 

our  hoBt-the  monarch  stiU  wore  his  crown. 

Days  mied  with  adventures  and  pleasures  rapidly 
followed  each  other,  but  ever  and  anon  the  thorns  of 
disappointment-the  damaged  reputation  of  Lucky 
Z  and  the  freedom  of  the  monarch-would  obtrude 
themselves  and  their  darkening  shadows  over  our 
otherwise  fair  picture.  To  recor-l  but  a  summary  of 
our  adventures  and  pleasures,  our  successes  and  fail- 
ures, would  extend  this  article  to  undue  length.  I 
shaU  therefere  blue  pencil  all  down  to  the  last  day. 

It  is  but  fair  to  Lucky  Dan  to  say  that  he  was  not 
at  all  self-conscious  and  egotistical,  and  that  he  du 
not  proudly   wear  the  laurels  so  generously  accorded 
to   him.     While   optimistic   to  the  last  degree,  and 
hopeful  ever,  it  was  the  optimism  and  hope  born  <.f 
cKperience   and  observation  rather  than  the  unwar- 
ranted  assumptions  born  of  presumption  and  igno- 
rance.    His  frankness  and  hopefulness  were  as  much 
in  evidence  the  last  night  in  camp  as  they  were  the 
first  night ;  and  yet  to  none  other  did  it  seem  possible 
to  add  to  the  pleasures  and  successes  that  had  already 
beep  ours-and  that  would  have  been  ample  for  the 
most  exacting  did  not  the  knowledge  that  the  mon- 
n  of  them  all  still  roamed  at  liberty,  which  gave 
to  us  a  twinge  of  regret.  ,     ,    ,  i 

Lon.  before  the  day  of  our  departure  had  dawned 
our  breakfast  was  disposed  of  and  at  the  suggestion 
of  Lucky  Dan  we  two  "hit  the  trail'  for  tie  settle- 
ment  thirty  miles  away,  while  the  rest  of  the  party 
Tere  packing  the  luggage  of  the  camp  for  transport*- 
tion  by  the  tote  team.  We  had  journeyed  several 
miles  before  daylight  and  compassed  nearly  the  whole 


The  Monarch  of  Buttrrmilk  Barren.  347 
of  the  diBtanee  around  the  end  of  the  bog  when  we  met 
a  team,  containing  a  man  weU  beyond  mi.lJife,  on"I 

oTher     HeT,."'  '"  ^'^'"^  ""-"P^  '"  *"«  wood's  to  Z 
Zfl'  ^,l  ^-      "'  "*  encountering  a  herd  of  caribou 
but  a  short  distance  back,  the  bull  carrying  the  mos 
magmHcent  set  of  antlers  that  he  had  Tver  seen      In 

ab  Ja  haTf'  "^r^  '""  ""''  ''"'*  '"^^^  '^'^  ^^'road 
to   tl        [.""I,"  ^.'"'^'  *'''"  '^^y  ^^  lei'-'^ly  away 

termilk  barren.     Here  was  an  opportunity  not  be  be 
negketed.     Hastily  taking  a„  oW  envelop  f^om' 
pocket,  I  wrote  the  facts  of  the  case  thereon  and  Tt«"k 

way  i  '*  """''  '^  ^"^^  '^^  ""  P««^  -  *te 

stiinesi'  ^"^'^   '"'"''•   ^'"'^'  •'''"•°'   «'«'«  absolute 
Simn   of  '''  'r''-     "*"""  '^^  «■«'•«  behind   a 

thThL      Jir^r"  '""'''''  "°   "  '''•««*  overlooking 
hour   W  ■"".   ,  '  ''f  "^  ^**"°*^^  "*  ^l'**  ««riy  -orning 

etiSintt  im;'lT;e  Thtd^^ ^  '1  ""^'"^'  ^- 
notyet^given  waTirthe  SttT/a^d^at! 
practiced  v,-.on  was  necessary  to  discern  anything  s 
nearly  allied  ,n  color  as  the  quarry  tL.t  we  werf  n 
pursuit  of  and  the  surrounding  barren 

toaZtTfh'f''""''^ '^'"^^'''«'^^°P-°'«d 
to  a  spot  on  the  barren  a  few  hundred  yards  away.     I 

could  see  nothing  of  the  game  we  sought  and  in  a  whis 

per  old  h,m  so.     They  are  there-they're  feeding,"  ^e 

thtr  wV     C""'^^"'  ^'^''^-'^-^^  I  couldnot  ditern 
hem,  but  Lucky  Dan  bowed  and  bowed  his  head  in 

I  fancied  I  saw  something  move  but  in  another  moment 


« m 


iji 


■■I ' 


I 


348  Gathsbbd  Waiflktb. 

I  felt  BUM  it  waa  the  swaying  of  a  bush  in  the  mom- 
ing  breeze.  Ab  we  had  the  advantage  of  the  wind  we 
had  nothing  to  fear  from  onr  scent,  but  as  time  huiv 
ried  rapidly  away  we  must  soon  get  in  onr  work  so 
aB  not  to  delay  the  team  too  long  waiting  for  onr  re- 
turn. ,       ,       - 

It  was  decided  that  I  was  to  remain  where  1  was,  as 
tny  position  gave  good  command  of  the  barren,  and 
Lucky  Dan  was  to  do  his  best  at  stalking  to  arouse  the 
attention  of  the  feeding  herd  »ithont  frightening 
them  away.  He  noiselessly  took  his  departure  dodg- 
ing from  one  bush  of  undergrowth  to  another.  Soon, 
getting  a  line  on  the  general  direction  that  he  followed 
and  with  increasing  light,  I  saw  the  herd  pawing  the 
snow  away  and  eating  their  breakfast.  Their  heads 
being  down  1  was  not  able  to  see  which  one  earned 
the  massive  branching  antlers  and  that  was  just  then 
the  only  one  that  was  interesting  to  me. 

Lucky  Dan  had  covered  about  one-half  the  distance 
and  was  concealed  behind  a  bunch  of  scrub  spruce 
from  near  the  center  of  which  had  grown  a  fairly  tall 
tree,  now  only  a  dead  trunk  and  limbs.  He  made 
efforts  to  reconnoiter  from  either  side  but  did  not  dare 
expose  himself  lest  the  herd  take  fright  and  scamper 
wildly  away.  FinaUy  he  penetrated  to  the  dead 
trunk  and  keeping  directly  behind  it  he  reached  up- 
wards and  laying  hold  of  one  of  the  limbs  essayed  to 
puU  himself  above  the  top  of  the  bushes  for  a  better 

"^  No  sooner  had  his  coon  skin  cap  showed  above  the 
surrounding  bushes  than  snap  went  the  limb  and  up 
went  the  heads  of  the  herd.  Landseer  never  painted 
a  more  striking  picture  than  that  made  by  the  mas- 


Negative  Soup.  j^j 

.«^.  h„a  rt„  .1,  „^„  ^,  ^^  ^_,^  ^^^  ^^ .™ 


'  ii 


i '  I  i- 


NEGATIVE  SOUP. 


The  immortal  Shakespeare  tells  us : 

:^ft  expectation  fails,  and  most  there 
Where  most  it  promises." 

pOLUMBUS  set  sail  for  the  Indies  and  diseov- 

^     «red  a  new  w„rl,l ;  Franklin  toyed  with  a  khe 

and  tamed  the  lightning. 

The  story  of  our  adventure  has  nothing  in  common 

-th  euher,  and  yet  it  was  as  truly  the  uneVe^ted  Xt 


tl        1^ 


^r  f\  >.i 


•  1 

■■f 


350  Gathered  Waiflbts. 

happened.  The  consequences  may  or  may  not  be  as 
momentous,  but  this  the  future  alone  can  determine, 
as  sufficient  time  has  not  elapsed  since  the  occurrence 
to  permit  of  more  than  very  indefinite  generalization. 
The  bright  sunny  days  of  a  not  distant  June  threw 
their  enchantment  around  a  trio  of  congenial  spirits, 
who  left  the  cares  of  business  and  the  perplexities  of 
life  behind  and  hied  them  to  the  mountain  peaks  and 
sylvan  retreats  of  northwestern  Maine,  where  grosbeak 
and  Canada  thrush  trilled  their  sweetest  notes,  and 
kindly  nature  perfumed  the  air  with  the  fragrance  of 

summer  flowers.  ,  ,    .r.      i 
Dainty  trout  rods  of  split  bamboo  and  feathered 
lures  of  most  seductive  hue  ministered  to  their  pleas- 
ure,and  taught  many  a  lordly  trout  the  folly  of  dallying 
with  temptation.     As  in  every  well-regulated  sports- 
man's outlit,  so  in  this,  a  camera  occupied  distinguished 
prominence.    As  a  moral  agent  it  is  indispensable  in 
this  doubting  age.     It  not  only  serves  to  while  away 
many  a  pleasant  hour,  and  secure  prized  remembrances 
for  future  inspection  and  pleasure,  but  it  also  authen- 
ticates the  story  of  the  big  lish  with  all  the  force  of 
"Sworn  to,  signed,  sealed  and  delivered  in  the  pres- 
ence of , 

AU  this  on  the  supposition  that  you  do  not  make 

negative  soup  in  transit.  ,  .       • 

We  had  taken  unusual  precaution  on  this  tnp  to  get 
good  results.  We  carried  a  large  camera  of  high  qual- 
ity and  four  dozen  plates,  instead  of  the  uncertain  but 
more  convenient  films.  _ 

We  had  made  negatives  of  the  grave  and  its  sur- 
roundings in  the  wilderness  at  the  Chain  of  Ponds  ot 
the  Dead  river,  near  Mount  Pizgah,  of  the  Indian  girl 


Nkoative  Soup.  ggj 

NatanU.  « .,„  „>»  brutally  n,„„ler«,l  there  by  a  .le- 

rebellum,  «e  had  foUo«e.l  Indian  Stream  to  its 
•noun  «n  source  and  captured  many  of  its  riistenil^ 
cascades  in  their  fnis.»t  l->,„        u         ,  K'lscening 

break  ,>v»r  I         .      , ,  *'  *''*'*  *''«y  un<^ea8ing)y 

break  «^er  Luge  boul.lers  an.l  send  up  clou.Is  of  finest 
.p^y  as  they  dash  themselves  down  the  JZI^ 
stde    the  dams  of  beaver,  the  lean-to  of  the  trapper 

^V  e  had  p!uDne.i  to  make  the  trip  out  to  the  settle 

ments.n  eanoes,aml  athoughtful  member  of  the  pa?; 
had  obtained  permission  from  the  owners  to  hoi^ 
gate  in  the  dam  on  the  hea.lwaters  oAZ  ^'tl^: 
which  materiaUy  augmented  the  volume  o  wa^  ^^ 
went  seething  and  surging  onward  over  the  raplaVd 
boulders  to  Its  confluence  with  the  Kennebec 

Our  guides,  being  expert  canoe  men,  proposed  to 
run  out  over  Scammous  Falls  rather  tha/^^f.;;' 
nearly  everyone  does,  and  while  they  were  makll 

mirh""^''"'""'  "•'''*'''  "■""^''  takeabouUhiity' 
minutes,  having  two  unexposed  plates  left,  I  took  the 
camera  and  hastened  down  the  trail  so  a.  to  have 
everything  in  readiness  for  a  snap  as  the  fhLl 
;hot  over  the  faUs.  I  had  coverTll  t  t^^^ 
tance  and  arrived  at  a  point  where  the  rive,  maket  1' 
bend  at  nearly  a  right  angle  to  its  former  co^se  and 
flows  directly  toward  the  trail.  Looking  upon  this 
beautiful   panorama,   I  saw  a   splendid   doe'.ui  t  , 


^^ 


I  i' 


lijl    J  :  i 


869 


Oatrkred  Wawliis. 


feeding  upon  the  lilypads  about  thirty  rod»  away. 
She  was  to  the  windward  of  me  and  facing  up  stream, 
and  as  my  moecasined  feet  softly  touched  the  ground 
she  was  undisturhed  by  noise  or  scent 

Quickly  setting  up  the  camera  in  such  protection  as 
a  convenient  bush  afforded,  I  waited  anxiously  for 
her  to  affonl  me  a  better  view.  She  greedily  snapped 
the  succulent  food,  first  here,  then  there,  eyes  and  ears 
constantly  on  the  alert  for  danger.  Finally  she  turned 
and  advanced  toward  me,  and  suspecting  or  perceiving 
danger  she  threw  her  head  high  in  air,  posing  in  such 
artistic  manner  as  would  rejoice  any  photographer's 
heart. 

Instantly  the  click  of  the  shutter  was  heard  on  the 
still  morning  air,  a  splashing  in  the  water,  a  white 

streak  vanishing  in  the  bushes— and  another  prized 

plate  was  secured. 

Ilasteningon,  I  had  just  focused  the  camera  when  the 

three  canoes  shot  around  the  bend,  each  stalwart  guide 

standing  erect  and  looking  a  veritable  Triton;  and, 

oh,  the  beauty  of  the  picture  as  they  shot  over  the 

falls  in  the  morning  sun ! 

Another  click  and  another  prize— worth  hardship 

and  toil  to  secure,  and  that  would  be  the  envy  of  many 

a  less  fortunate  mortal 

The  canoes  were  soon  beached,  loads  readjusted, 

and  away  went  the  expedition  as  light  and  graceful 

"As  a  painted  Bhii>  upon  a  painted  ocean." 

A  tremor  of  trepidation  took  possession  of  me  at  first, 

but  having  one  of  the  very  best  canoemen  in  Maine, 

with  whom  I  had  made  many  a  hazardous  trip  without 

mishap,  I  was  soon  lost  to  all  sense  of  danger,  and  min- 


Nkoativk  Sopp. 


858 


utes^of  superlative  pleasure  ran  quickly  into  enchante.1 

The  guides  had  but  to  use  the  pad.iles  to  keep  the 
fra.1  canoes  in  mid-stream,  and  let  them  shoot  on«ar.l 
with  the  swollen  and  quick-flowinjf  current 

A  keen  eye  and  skiUe.l  hand  was  at  aU  times  nee.led 
to  steer  the  craft  clear  of  derelict  logs  and  concealed 
boulders  which  made  powerful  ed.iies  that  would 
•luiclcly  swamp  a  canoe  in  unskilled  han.is.  Rapidly 
travelling  without  effort,  the  oscillation  of  the  canoe 
as  It  rode  the  swells  and  smoothly  glided  to  lower  lev- 
els,  It  seemed  as  if  we  were  borne  through  space,  in 
the  kindly  arms  of  some  mighty  giant,  «n,l  uncon- 
sciously  I  reveled  in  the  many  pleasant  sensations 
evoked  by  the  varied  experiences  of  tlie  past  feu- 
weeks,  and  exulted  over  the  many  and  varied  pictur- 
esque  and  novel  subjects  which  my  forty-eight  plates 
would  enable  me  to  share  with  my  frien.Js  at  home 

Again  my  thoughts  would  turn  to  other  days  and 
other  themes,  and  pleasure  came  in  recaUing  the  fact 
that  down  this  very  stream  plowed  the  canoe  of  the 
red  man  bearing  the  sainted  Fr.  Druillettes  on  his 
mission  of  Christianity  and  civilization  to  the  Abena- 
kis  250  years  ago. 

Persecution  bom  of  ignorance  and  fanaticism  had 
destroyed  the  missions  along  the  coast  and  driven 
hence  the  devoted  missionaries,  and  the  dusky  sons  of 
the  forest  were  unconsolable.  A  deputation  was  Anally 
sent  to  Quebec  in  104(!,  which  returned  with  the  be- 
loved  black-gown,  who  erected  his  mission  cross  at 
iNomdgewock  where  he  made  his  home  for  several 
years.  He  was  the  first  white  man  wlio  ever  crossed 
the  trackless  forest  from  Quebec  to  central  Maine 


:  I   i 


$u 


Oathkrko  Waiflbts. 


I 

i 


Hi»  ascetic  form  Beamed  to  ri»e  before  ns,  and  the 
gongbing  of  the  snmmer  breeze  in  the  tree-tops  seemed 
as  the  dying  cadence  of  his  Ave  Marit  Stella. 

And  anon  the  martial  mnsic  of  fife  and  dram,  tlie 
stern  command  and  noisy  bustle  of  the  forces  of  the 
Continental  Army  under  Benedict  Arnold,  which  labo- 
riously urged  their  crade  batteaus  against  this  self-same 
current  en  route  to  attack  Quebec,  seemed  to  break  in 
as  a  note  of  discord  as  it  must  have  done  more  than 
a  hundred  years  ago. 

And  again  the  words  of  Byron  seemed  wedded  to 
the  scenes  and  surroundings : 

"How  often  we  forget  all  time  when  lone. 
Admiring  nature's  universal  throne, 
Her  woods,  her  wilds,  her  waters — the  intense 
Reply  of  hers  to  our  intelligence." 

Onward  we  sped  as  a  feather  through  space  and 
pleasure  kept  pace  with  our  speed.  Delight  grew 
with  our  progress,  little  dreaming  we  that 

"Violent  delights  have  violent  ends." 

I  noticed  that  the  canoe  some  hundred  or  more 
yards  in  advance  made  a  detour  and  hugged  the  shore, 
and  soon  the  reason  was  obvious.  A  huge  boulder 
lay  concealed  beneath  the  surface,  and  the  water  foam- 
ingabout  andabove  it  made  great  eddies  on  either  side. 
My  guide  did  not  make  sufficient  allowance  for  their 
volume  and  force,  and  soon  we  were  caught  in  the 
trough,  and  over  we  went  in  an  instant. 

"Look  out!"  shouted  my  guide,  but  before  a  sound 
fell  upon  my  ears  we  were  floundering  about  in  the 
water — duffle,  camera,  plates  and  all ! 


NkOATIVB   SoPP.  g,r,5 

.h  "V!lV\*M  *'"'  '*'""''    ""W  on  t"  the  canoe'" 

Prij  ;^th/.       "'■"'"I*'"   "^  P'"*""-  'J^'   the 
boTo  J  *""  '""'^  '""^^  '^«"'  l-'-'"^  '»  the 

HhoMhfl*  '1"""'  *'"'  "'"'"°''  »PP««1-  bat  away 

i  tie  othir  """V"™"*-'  the  attention  of  those 

n  the  other  eanoes  an.l  they  came  qnickly  to  the  res- 

c«e-o„r  canoe  being  capture,!  and  'returned  to  ua2 

tliose  in  advance.  ' 

ment  t  hUt         "^  ""^  ^''^'^^'■"•t""'^  "f  our  environ- 
ment,  its  history,  poetry  and  sentiment.     Our  spirits 

t^mi'"  rr  ''"'"P''"^'''  -"(Tination  reS 

itil  i?      H  '°'*^*"«'*'  ^°  "«  '«-"-'l«<l  to  the 
ntihtarian   and  prosaic.     Wonid  Satmo  Oqua.sa  or 

atftrifr""'!:  '""^  *'«  ^«'-  of 'h^r  Vd 

and  turn  It  to  good  account?  Would  their  saites 
assemble, n  intellectual  convention,  and  with  b3 
ng  erudition  discuss  the  action  of  light  upon  ZZ- 

InlT:^  '":;•!!'  ''"''  ^'"'^  *''«-  '»  "  dark  Z 
in  the  depths  and  develop  them  only  to  have  some 

Would  th/n  "•'?  *'^  "'*^  inqniry-C^i  ftono" 
Would  the  inteUeetual  triumph  over  the  base  and  sel- 
fish ?  AVould  the  future  angler,  when  doing  his  best 
for  distance,  delicacy  and  accuracy,  be  startfed    n  h 

hend  ,n  the  act  of  taking  ,.  snap  shot  at  him?-„r 
«-ouId  he  be  able  to  relate  to  his  wondering  fr L^ 
on  his  return  how  he  captured  and  landed  a  swim 


h  'i    < 


8SA 


UaTHKRKD   AVAIFHtTS. 


ming  photograph  gallery  ?  Or  would  all  their  porai- 
bilities  sink  to  the  level  of  the  gormandizer  and  be 
RK'allowed  simply  as  so  much  negative  soup)  Who 
can  teU  i — Forett  and  Stream,  November  28, 1896. 


MY  FIRST  CANVASBACK. 


A    RKMINIrtCENCE   OF    SIIKLL   POINT. 

DURING  the  winter  of  188H,  Boreas  in  our  North- 
em  clime  had  lowered  the  column  of  mercury 
in  the  Fahrenheit  tubes  to  10,  12  and  HJ  de- 
grees below  Kero  for  gome  weeks  together,  when  into 
my  sanctum  walke<l  a  friend  of  many  years  with  a 
challenge  to  seek  a  temporary  abode  in  a  land  of  more 
ethereal  mildness,  where  we  might  snap  our  Angers  at 
his  Frigid  Majesty  and  warm  our  guns  upon  the  larger 
winged  game. 

Having  enjoyed  many  rare  days'  sport  with  him 
upon  the  high-flying  upland  plover,  the  swift-flying 
quail,  the  devious-flying  snipe,  the  erratic-flying  wood- 
cock and  the  lordly  ruffed  grouse,  it  had  long  been 
my  ambition,  as  it  had  many  times  been  his  privilege, 
to  try  conclusions  with  the  sea-fowl  of  the  Atlantic 
coast.  The  talk  resulted  in  the  almost  immediate  pur- 
chase of  tickets  for  the  "Sunny  South." 

Arriving  in  Norfolk  before  noon,  we  took  the  Vir- 
ginia Beach  railroad  to  the  Princess  Anne,  where  we 


My  Firht  Canvahback.  S.r.y 

.JuadrapedH,  wheels,  board.,  .Oming  and  rope,  for  power 
and  vehicle,  and  with  such  a  Jehu  ford  Z,  us  .ildelt 
imagination  never  pictured. 

The  dozen  or  Hfteen  mile,  from  fi,.  ,,„■  .1  „,    ,,r 
;le«t,nat,on  ■«  a  barren  coast,  evinei,,  -  „.,  sip,  „,■ .  i,; 
.».tion  or  hfe  except  about  the  8t«t,  ,„ ,  .,f  t!,,.  ,     s 
^oast  Guar.!,  which  are  some  four  .  ,•  live  mi.l ..  ..p,.n 
Hulks  of  wrecks  and  drift,  an  oc<„.,i„na]  .Uu,Jl^. 
.ut  deserted,  now  and  then  a  disused  «i.,i„,iu  in     „ 
-hBtance,  Us  i.lle  arms  outstretched  as  if  i.  n,„„    ";: 
from  bygone  t,mes  to  the  present;  eagles  ...nugTu 
he  air  or  perche,!  upon  the  telegraph  poles  of^the 
hfe.sav.ng  serv.ce  are   the   only  companions   of  the 
tnp,  save  the  ceaseless  roar  and  murmur  of  ocean's 
billows  as  they  sing  their  mournful  dirge  as  a  fittin,^ 
requiem  over  the  graves  of  the  many  casTaways  'Use 
bones  he  beaching  beneath  the  sands  of  the  shorl 
yth  only  a  broken  spar  driven  into  the  sand  to  mark 
their  last  resting  place. 

Amved  at  Little  Islan.I,  Capt.  Andrews'  voice  rang 
oat  a  cheery  welcome  to  my  frien.I,  whose  advent 
though  unexpected  was  none  the  les  welcome  and 
whose  gun  in  these  parts  ha,I  many  times  prevLs  y 
rung  out  the  death  kneU  of  many  a  noble  bird.  "  Ve 
tun.  m  ear  yarn!  are  soon  lost  in  pleasant  dreams. 
AVe  seem  hanlly  to  have  been  asleep  at  all  when 
aroused  from  our  slumbers  by  the  ringing  voice  of 
the  Captain,  "All  hands  ahoy  -     Rousin^g  noreaster!" 

lubbXTsr " '    '""'  ''''  """^'-^ ''-»-  "f  '-  ^-.' 
A  hasty  toilet  and  breakfast,  and  soon  the  gunner. 


I' 


ti 


358 


Gathered  Waiflkts. 


!  'f 


%l 


weU  bundled  in  the  bow,  and  boatman  at  the  oars, 
were  (juietly  making  their  way  to  Shell  Point,  sev- 
eral miles  distant,  long  before  the  first  glimmer  of 
daybreak  appeared  on  the  eastern  horizon.  Point 
reached,  decoys  put  out,  boat  beached  among  the 
cane,  gunner  and  boatman  in  readiness  in  an  exceedingly 
comfortable  blind  anxiously  await  in  silence  the  ad- 
vent of  the  first  callers.  The  dark,  rolling  clouds  had 
scarcely  begun  to  lift,  giving  evidence  of  daybreak, 
when  the  keen  and  practical  eye  of  ray  boatman  dis- 
covered in  the  distance  a  pair  of  ducks  coming  up 
the  wind. 

"Pair  canvas ,  down,  sir — mark  south — don't  shoot 
till  I  tell  you."  Then  began  Ed's  wonderful  talk  in  pur- 
est canvaaback  duck  language.  Down  crouching,  elec- 
tric currents  making  quick  circuit  of  my  system,  real- 
izing that  the  long-wished  for  moment  ol  years 
was  at  hand,  I  breathlessly  awaited  their  oncoming. 
Eb's  whispered,  "mark  east"  indicated  their  location, 
and  peering  between  the  cane  reeds  of  the  blind  I  see 
them  swiftly  flying  into  the  teeth  of  the  wind  and 
well  out,  as  if  to  pass  our  decoys  in  disgust,  and  my 
heart  sinks  as  I  see  them  pass  us  by — but  no !  Eb's 
trained  voice  is  too  seductive  for  wisest  duck  to  re- 
sist. 

They  wheel,  and  with  a  whispered,  "mark  north, 
get  ready,"  he  continued  to  call  more  impassioned  and 
earnest,  and  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it  around 
they  sweep  in  a  curvilinear  line  to  our  decoys,  and 
with  an  audible  "mark  east,  shoot,"  the  gunner  is  on 
liis  feet  and  the  old  reliable  lo-bore  Scott  rings  out 
the  <leiith-kuell  of  my  first  canvasbaek.  He  was  com- 
ing with  such  velocity  that  he  fell  stone  dead  in  the 


My  First  Canvarback.  3:,<) 

water  within  two  feet  of  our  blind,  although  shot  at  a 
distance  of  forty  to  fifty  yards.  Duck  number  two 
wheeled  about  and  stood  not  upon  the  order  of  his 
going,  but  >vent  like  a  flash  in  a  line  directly  away 
from  us,  and  swinging  around  upon  him  I  failed  to  stop 
the  gun  when  it  covered  him,  and  so  shooting  to  the 
right,  scored  a  clean  miss. 

"WeU  done,  sir,  well  done ;  no  gun  could  reach  the 
last  one,"  were  Eb's  over  kind  words  of  congratulu- 
tion  and  flattery. 

Ah!  clever  soul,  weU  knew  that  I  should  ha\e 
kiUed  the  second,  but  his  kindly,  genial  way  lessened 
nay  chagrin,  and  his  words  of  flattery  were  as  balm  in 
the  moment  of  disappointment.  Thus  was  ushered  in 
our  ducking  experience,  and  many  were  the  pleasant 
and  successful  days  put  in  with  Eb  and  others  since— 
the  memories  of  which  in  the  meUow  light  of  receding 
years  form  mental  pictures  surpassing  those  of  the 
artist's  most  skillful  limning. 

Under  many  and  varied  circumstances  and  condi- 
tions in  many  of  the  favorite  haunts  of  sea-fowl  along 
the  Atlantic  coast,  as  club  member  and  guest,  I  have 
many  times  experienced  the  pleasures  an<l  success  of 
gunning  for  swan,  geese,  brant,  wild  turkeys,  snipe 
and  quail,  but  none  recall  or  awaken  a  greater  thrill  (,£ 
exultation  or  satisfaction  than  my  maiden  triumph  in 
sea-fowl  shooting  when  I  killed  my  first  canvasbaek 
on  Shell  Pomt—Forsst  and  Stream,  November  14,  l&b'9 


f'^    I 


A  COONLESS  HUNT. 


«£v 


I 


VKUYTIIIN(i  comes  to  liim  who  waits,"  and 
the  writer  waited  until  old  Time  had 
changed  many  of  his  raven  locks  to  sil- 
very hue  ere  an  invitation  came  to  spend  a  niglit 
with  a  jovial  party  on  historic  Wachusett  Mountain 
in  pursuit  of  the  cunning  thief  of  the  cornKelds.  The 
invitation  came  from  an  old  timer  from  whose  belt 
dangled  many  a  noble  pelt,  and  who,  although  calle<l 
upon  to  till  the  seat  of  chairman  of  the  board  of  select- 
men of  his  town,  couhl  not  forego  the  pleasures  of  a 
night  in  tlie  old  haunts. 

Iteaching  the  house  of  our  host  we  were  ushered 
into  a  cheery  (lining-room  and  were  soon  discussing  a 
tempting  spread.  The  conversation  naturally  drifted 
to  the  sport  before  us  and  the  prospect  of  success. 

"  A\'ill  you  have  some  more  of  the  roast?" 

"Thank  you,  I  will.  The  drive  has  sLarpened  my 
appetite,  and  the  lamb  is  very  tender  and  nice." 

"Well,  if  we  have  the  good  fortune  to  get  a  nice, 
fat  coon,  you  must  take  it  home  and  dine  on  roast 
coon." 

"Hardly,  Atwood,  liardly.  I  am  rather  inclined  to 
think  1  will  liave  to  draw  the  line  at  coon." 

A  roar  of  laughter  l)urst  forth,  and  came  the  in- 
(juiry  - 

"And  what  are  you  eating  now?" 

"Wliy,  lamb,  of  course." 


*.  .^ 


A   Coon  LESS   Ilrxi. 


.".fir 


"  Yes,  Imnli  tiikcii  from  the  liiiidquuiters  of  a  fat 
coon !  * ' 

Passing  Hansom  Uoek,  of  colonial  fame,  wIrtc  the 
wliitos  ninsoniwl  captives  from  tlie  Indians,  \vu  were 
soon  on  the  nunmtain  side,  when  Tige  and  Pomp  were 
cast  oft-.  We  had  not  been  Ions  seated  before  they 
Ka\e  tonsne  some  distance  away.  A  coon  tliey  had, 
dead  sure,  and  away  go  the  party  in  i)ursuit.'  The 
baying  of  the  dogs  re-eclioes  from  the  mountain  side 
and  makes  weird  nuisic  in  the  stillness  of  the  night. 
The  lantern  man  heads  the  procession  and  the  rest  fol- 
low as  best  they  can.  Xow  down  goes  one  and  then 
another,  until  nearly  all  have  pai.l  tribute  to  the  un- 
.•ven  footing  and  the  darkness,  rendered  visible  by 
the  feeble  rays  of  the  lantern.  We  overtook  the  dogs 
only  to  fiml  that  the  (|uarry  had  taken  U))  secure  (juar- 
ters  m  a  fissure  of  the  leilge. 

The  dogs  were  jmlled  off  and  le.l  some  distance 
iiway  and  again  they  are  olf.  The  party  gathered 
under  a  sprea.ling  pirn,  and  spun  reminiscence  and 
story  until  called  to  the  work  in  hand  by  the  nmsic 
of  the  dogs.  Again  the  jirocession  niovwl,  quarter- 
ing up  the  hillside,  a  long  and  fatiguing  jaunt  — try- 
ing to  the  wind  and  muscle  of  the  best.  Coming  lip 
to  them  we  lind  the  ,logs  tearing  around  through 
dense  sjHwnwood  (Kiihuia  r„(tlf„li,i ),  (lirough  which 
runs  quite  a  large  brook  —  but  coon  saw  we  none.  The 
knowing  ones  claimed  that  Mr.  Coon,  being  hot 
pres.scd.  took  to  the  water  for  some  distance  to 
throw  the  ,logs  olf  the  seent,  and  tliat  he  enu-rged 
into  such  dense  thicket  that  the  dogs  could  not  folh.w. 
It  was  decided  to  cast  olf  the  .logs  in  a  different 
'lirection  and  start  a  new  Irail.     The  wind  meanwhile 


V  ) 


i  i 


362 


Oatbebed  Waiflets. 


bad  veered  again  into  the  west  and  the  full  moon 
rolled  out  from  a  bank  of  cloud  and  lent  an  added 
charm  to  the  night.  Again  the  group  formed  under 
the  sheltering  boughs,  and  quickly  sped  the  time  with 
brilliant  sallies  and  skillful  repartee. 

The  faint  note  of  the  distant  town  clock,  as  it  tolled 
out  the  hour  of  one,  had  hardly  died  away  ere  all 
were  summoned  to  their  feet  by  the  hardly  audible 
baying  of  the  dogs.  We  had  not  proceeded  more  than 
a  hundred  yards  before  a  ruffed  grouse,  disturbed 
in  his  slumber,  made  the  hills  thunder  with  his  pin- 
ions. 

One  of  the  party  in  line  with  the  moon  saw  him 
alight  near  a  fork  in  a  limb  of  a  small  maple  tree, 
and  summoning  the  writer,  who  carried  the  gun,  he 
confesses  to  doing  the  deed  of  death  in  an  unsports- 
manlike manner  at  an  unseemly  hour  in  the  morning. 
Gathering  up  the  spoils  we  hurried  on  and  soon  en- 
countered an  old  wood  road  which  materially  assisted 
our  passage.  Soon  after,  the  writer  stepped  on  an  old 
sled  stake  that  was  lying  athwart  the  pathway  con- 
cealed by  a  pile  of  dead  leaves,  and  down  he  went  as 
if  struck  by  a  political  cyclone.  Gathering  himself 
up  with  the  assistance  of  friendly  hands  he  proceeded 
to  retrieve  his  hammerless  breech-loader,  which  he 
found  completely  broken  in  two  at  the  wrist.  No  mis- 
haps must  stand  in  the  way,  and  we  are  soon  with  the 
dogs  at  the  foot  of  two  white  birch  trees  of  consider- 
able size  —  one  standing  erect  and  the  other  bending 
in  graceful  ellipse  toward  the  earth.  Here  the  dogs 
wa.xed  eager,  and  soon  the  coon  was  discovered  near 
the  top  of  the  upright  tree.  Getting  in  line  of  the 
moon,  he  was  clearly  discernible  by  all,  and  he  of  the 


A  CooNLEss  Hunt.  363 

dilapidated  gun  was  summoned  to  "  bring  the  critter 
down."    Placing  the  broken  ends  of  the  stock  in  oppo- 
sition and  grasping  the  fracture  firmly  with  one  hand, 
I  cut  loose,  but  his  coonship  was  not  seemingly  dis- 
turbed.    "  You  jiit  him  for  certain  1     I  saw  the  fur 
fly!  "  said  one.    "  What  size  shot  liave  you  in}  "  said 
another.    "  Try  him  again !"  chimed  in  a  third.    And 
thmkmg  I  nmst  have  flinched  through  fear  of  my  gun, 
I  wrapped  a  Imndkereliief  around  tlie  fracture  and 
again  took  (U'liberut..  niin  iind  fired.    "  Hit  him  sure  " 
said  several,  but  he  ,|jd  not  "  coom  doun."    Handing 
the  weapon  over  to  the  con  hunter  of  the  party,  he 
sent  up  his  eomplinieiits  with  like  results.     Having 
faith  no  longer  in  the  gun,  elimbing  irons  are  strapped 
on,  a  Colt's  navy  revolver  stuck  in  the  belt,  ami  now 
<lown  will  come  his  coonsljip.    The  party  forms  a  ring 
around  the  trees,  the  <logs  tearing  like  mad ;  the  climber 
has  reached  the  treetop,  which  he  proceeds  to  shake  as 
If  It  had  been  struck  by  a  hurri<ane,  but  the  coon  is 
not  unhorse.1.    "  Put  a  bullet  into  him,"  said  someone, 
growing  impatient  at  the  delay.     Aim  is  taken,  and 
the  navy  revolver  belches  flame  and  thunder,  but  no 
coon  moves.    "  What  in  tliunder  does  it  mean  I  "    "Is 
it  a  phantom  coon  ?  "    "  I  've  seen  fur  fly  every  time  he 
was  shot  at,"  were  some  of  the  many  sayings  of  those 
on  terra  firmu,  while  he  in  the  tree-top  had  "  put 
up  again  his  sword  into  its  scabbard  "  ami  proceeded 
to  reconnoiter  more  closely.     Carefully  making  his 
way  up  the  small  stem  of  the  tree  near  its  top  he  sang 
out:    "  Well,  boys,  I  think  we  had  better  go  home.    A 
big  wasp's  nest  is  all  the  coon  there's  up  here!  " 

Thoughts  were  not   revealed  until  we  reached  the 
team  in  the  early  .lawn  .some  miles  away,  when  tlie 


364 


Gathered   Waiflets. 


chairman  of  the  board  of  selectmen,  with  becoming 
gravity,  said:  "  Wan't  he  cunning,  though,  to  run  up 
the  bent  tree  and  jump  off  to  breali  the  scent  and  fool 
the  dogs!  "  —  Forest  and  Stream,  February  19,  1891. 


A  DAY  IN   MASSACHUSETTS  COVEBS. 


i 


« 


J. 


RESPONDING  to  a  growing  healthy  sentiment 
tlie  Solons  of  the  old  Bay  State  have,  from 
time  to  time,  shortened  the  open  season  when 
the  game  birds  m.iy  legally  be  reduced  to  possession. 
The  older  generation  of  sportsmen  can  well  remember 
when  the  shooting  of  woodcock  and  upland  plover 
was  permitted  during  the  sweltering  weather  of  July, 
and  of  rutted  grouse  and  quail  soon  after. 

The  army  of  sportsmen  has  been  so  rapidly  re- 
cruited in  recent  times,  firearms  perfected  and  ren- 
dered more  destructive,  and  the  number  of  bird  dogs 
multiplied  and  more  highly  developed,  that  the  more 
conservative  and  thoughtful  welcome  every  measure 
that  limits  the  wholesale  destruction  and  extermina- 
tion of  our  game  birds  and  insures  their  conservation 
to  coming  generations. 

The  heats  of  summer  time  have  passetl;  the  half- 
fledged  birds  that  were  sought  and  cruelly  slaughtered 
in  former  tim.'s  have  now  reaehetl  maturity,  and  are 
strong  of  wins;  the  crisp  frosts  of  autumn  stimulate 


A  Day  in  Massachusetts  Covers. 


365 


renewed  energy  and  impart  such  a  glorious  coloring 
to  hillside  and  landscape  as  the  famed  pencil  of  Rem- 
brandt never  equalled ;  and  the  sportsmen  of  the  old- 
est settled  State  in  New  England  rejoice  and  are  glad 
that  October  now  murks  the  opening  of  the  gunning 
season  for  upland  game  birds. 

Although  thi.s  State  has  been  settled  nearly  three 
hundred  years,  and  despite  the  fact  that  its  population 
to  the  square  mile  is  greater  than  that  of  any  other 
State  in  the  Union,  its  wooded  hillsides  and  valleys, 
its  sprout  lands  and  white  birch  and  alder  runs  with 
overhanging  grape  vines,  the  abundance  of  mast  — 
berries,  grapes,  nuts,  seeds  and  buds  —  all  combine  to 
make  such  an  ideal  home  for  our  native  birds  that  an 
abundance  still  remain  to  generously  reward  the  am- 
bition and  skill  of  the  sportsman  who  is  familiar  with 
the  haunts  and  habits  of  the  game. 

While  upland  plover,  quail  and  woodcock  are  in 
evidence,  the  ruffed  grouse,  here  called  partridge,  are 
more  eagerly  sought,  and  the  sportsman  who  can  out- 
wit an  old  cock  partridge,  who  can  follow  him  through 
dense  shrubbery,  spoonwood,  blackberry  bushes,  tang- 
ling grape  vines  and  other  swampy  and  woodsy 
growths,  and  finally  draw  a  bead  upon  him  and  pull 
the  trigger  successfully,  when  he  suddenly  breaks 
cover  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  and  with  seeming 
lightning  speed,  can  well  feel  a  pardonable  pride  in 
his  achievement,  and  challenge  comparison  for  endur- 
ance and  skill  with  the  most  successful  wing  shot  of 
other  species  of  feathered  game;  an<l  in  all  that  goes 
to  stir  the  blood  and  send  a  thrill  of  triumph  through- 
out the  system,  the  achievement  will  not  suffer  by 
comparison  with  the  deeds  of  him  who  successfully 


366  Oathebed  Waipletb. 

stalks  big  game  in  gloomy  forest  and  mountain  fast- 
ness far  from  the  abodes  of  men. 

But,  again,  the  lengthened  days  of  the  summer  sol- 
stice have  come  and  gone,  and  with  them  the  light  and 
warmth  and  Mowers  of  ••  -nmer  time.  The  days  of 
autumn  are  at  hand,  »■  a  tempered  sun  and  gentle 
breezes,  mellow  and  1-^  i/.ag,  energize  and  exhilarate 
like  wine  of  rarest  v  ntage.  In  the  early  morning 
hours  with  an  old  companion,  tried  and  true,  and  our 
staunch  setter  in  his  accustomed  place  in  the  vehicle, 
and  all  well  bundleil  up  and  tucked  in  to  resist  the 
biting  air,  we  are  a^ain  on  our  way  to  old  and  familiar 
haunts  a  dozen  miles  away. 

Emerging  from  the  smoke  of  the  city,  the  country 
looks  drowsy  ut  first,  but  soon  the  early  risers  are  in 
evidence,  when  we  encounter  teams  laden  with  milk, 
fruit  and  vegetables  on  their  way  to  market. 

Tlie  eye  tails  restfuUy  on  the  dim  outline  of  the 
hills,  and  the  lifting  clouds  of  mist  in  the  valWys  seem 
like  nature's  effort  to  lift  the  curtains  of  night  and 
arouse  herself  from  sleep.  The  deep  embrasures  of 
the  hills  are  still  hidden  in  the  gloom  of  morning,  and 
the  meadows  lie  in  pluoiil  repose.  Soon  a  purple  arch 
is  thrown  across  the  sky,  which  a  little  late/  is  trans- 
fixed and  rent  asunder  by  pencillings  of  golu.  Wisps 
of  elouiis  sail  leisurely  across  the  turquoise  sky,  when 
the  sun  soon  after  rolls  above  the  horizon  and  dispels 
the  remnant  of  night  and  ushers  in  the  new  day.  Our 
surroundings  were  too  interesting  and  impressive  for 
the  common -places  of  conversation,  and  a  community 
of  tastes  prompted  the  tribute  of  silence. 

.\rrivinf,'  at  the  extensive  farm  of  an  old  friend, 
whose  covers  always  abound  in  game  birds,  and  to 


A  Day  in  MASSACRvsnTs  Covebs.  367 

which  we  had  always  heretofore  been  welcomed,  re- 
pulsive signs,  "  No  Trespassing,  Under  Penalty  of  the 
Law,"  greeted  our  vision  and  aroused  us  from  our  rev- 
eries—the first  foul  blot  of  the  day  upon  the  fairest 
of  pictures  — the  overthrowing  of  the  ideal  and  the 
enthronement  of  the  real. 

Arriving  at  the  home  of  our  farmer  friend,  we 
found  him  cmpl."  il  husking  corn  in  his  barn.  An- 
swering his  cheery  '•  good  morning  "  in  kind  as  best 
we  could,  we  expressed  our  regret  that  he  had  found 
it  necessary  to  post  his  farm  so  as  to  exclude  Italians 
««d  other  foreigners  from  the  city  and  the  Metropoli- 
tan water  works,  wheiv  many  hundreds  of  them  were 
employed. 

Much  to  our  surprise,  he  told  us  that  the  Italians 
and  otlier  foreigners  had  given  him  no  trouble,  but 
that  degraded  and  worthless  specimens  of  humanity 
from  the  city,  some  of  whom  traced  their  ancestry  way 
back  to  the  Mayflower,  had  run  over  his  place  Sundays 
as  well  as  Mondays,  cut  his  barbed-wire  fencing,  threw 
down  his  stone  walls,  besides  doing  other  damage: 
that  wlien  he  remonstrated  with  them  they  were  saucy, 
vulgar,  profane,  and  treated  him  with  abase  and  con- 
tumely. They  finally  became  so  obnoxious  and  un- 
bearable that  he  tlireatened  them  with  arrest  for 
violating  the  Sumlay  laws  of  the  State,  when  they 
departed  down  through  some  sprout  and  pasture  land 
where  he  heard  the  discliarge  of  firearms.  Missing  one 
of  his  cows  from  the  herd  that  night,  he  sought  and 
found  her  the  next  day,  in  the  direction  whence  the 
degenerates  had  taken  their  departure  and  from 
whence  came  the  sound  of  firearms,  shot  to  death. 
Offering  the  expression  of  our  regrets  for  such  gross 


II 


:!fi8 


O.VTIIEBEll    WaIKI.ITS. 


iiiipropriotii's  us  wore  dealt  out  to  him,  und  regrets  for 
liis  I0.SS,  he  very  warmly,  with  ol.l-time  cordiality,  bade 
UH  welcome  and  wished  us  every  pleasure  and  success. 
OariiiK  for  our  team,  we  decided  to  try  the  two-acre 
swale,  so  called,  over  the  kuoU  back  of  the  barn.  This 
patch  of  ground,  more  iiuirsh  than  solid  earth,  lay  in 
a  smishiny  hollow  Ix-tween  the  hills,  und  was  over- 
grown witii  a  riotous  profusion  of  shrubbery  und  grape 
vines.  On  the  further  side  was  arable  laml,  flanked 
with  a  sugar  loaf  knoll  rising  a  few  hundred  feet  in 
the  air,  arouml  the  base  of  which,  to  the  woods  be- 
yond. Hew  any  birds  that  were  flushed  and  which  wore 
fortunate  enough  to  escape. 

My  companion  took  his  accustomeil  position  on  the 
outside,  when  I  essayed  to  work  my  way  through  tin- 
dense  undergrowth.  1  made  but  little  progress  when 
the  tinkling  of  the  bell  of  Ke.\  ceased  and  told  the 
story  that  he  was  on  point.  Being  situateil  where  it 
wasinipossible  for  me  to  shoot,  I  called  out  "  point  " 
—  when,  with  the  noise  of  muffled  tliunder,  out  went  a 
covey  of  five  birds,  giving  ray  companion  an  oppor- 
tunity to  make  an  easy  double,  the  renminder  seeking 
safety  in  the  woods  beyond  the  hill. 

"  This  is  ahuost  too  much  like  butchery,"  said  he, 
"  but  being  so  early  in  the  day,  and  not  knowing  what 
our  chances  may  b"  Ui».  r,  1  was  tcmipted  to  <lo  it. 
Now,  let  me  follow  the  dog  and  you  take  the  out- 
side." 

Thanking  him  for  his  courtesy,  and  assuring  him 
that  few  places  in  the  State  were  so  sure  to  hohl  birils, 
and  that  none  couhl  be  more  favorable  for  their  cap- 
ture, and  that  we  should  have  to  work  hard  for  any 
more  than  we  might  get,  1  insisted  on  working  the 


&l 


A  Day  ih  Massachunktts  Covkbs.        869 
cov«r  and  giving  him  the  benefit  of  the  saccem  that 
w-a.  already  onr,,  I  ordered  Rex  on.     FaithfnUy  an.l 
honrnghly  1,^  covered   the  ground,  challenging  .11 
likely  pl«.-«s,  hut  without  avail.    Slowly  and  carefully 
we  worked  our  way  through  the  den«e  and  tangled 
undergrowth  out  towar.I  the  further  end  where  it  nar- 
rowed  toa  point   Clamberingovera  lotof  smallstone, 
atthe  edge  of  the  cover,  that  ha.l  been  gathered  in 
from  the  adjom.ng  field.  1  was  on  their  summit  when 
the  bell  again  ceased  to  tinkle.     This  my  companion 
announced  when  two  more  partri.lge  broke  cover  near 
me  with  all  their  startling  abruptness,  and  in  „  curving 
fl-ht  started  like  a  fiash  for  the  woods  beyond  the  hill 
Hastily  drawing  bea.l  upon  the  foremost,  I  pulled  trig! 
ger  at  the  moment  a  rolling  stone  gave  way  beneath 
my  foot,  I  score.!  a  clean  miss,  but  the  last  fell  at  a  very 
considerable  distance  to  a  more  careful  aim.    Crossing 
over  to  the  woods  beyon.l  the  hill,  the  careful  and 
thorough  working  of  the  dog  not  only  gave  us  pleas- 
"re,  but  also  numerous  shots  without  ad.iing  to  the 
number  of  birds  in  our  game  pockets.     For  this  we 
found  many  reasons  besides  the  true  one,  doubtless- 
indifferent  marksmanship-and  consoled  ourselves  that 
we  did  not  want  all  the  birds ;  that  we  already  had  a 
brace,  and  that 

The  partridge  shot  at  that  fles  away 
Lives  to  be  shot  at  another  day. 
Returning  to  the  farm  house  at  noon  to  care  for  our 
horse  and  to  eat  our  lunch,  we  found  the  animal  cared 
for  and  a  dinner  already  prepared  for  us  in  the  house 
Accepting  the  hospitality  of  our  host,  two  hungry 
sportsmen  did  full  justice  to  the  ample  New  England 
ilinner  so  generously  provided. 


MlCtOCOPV    RESOLUTION   TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0    IfK  1^ 


1^ 
1^ 


I.I 


\121  1111114 


-APPLIED  IIVMGE 


370 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


i-  ", 


The  shortened  antumn  day  prevented  any  length- 
ened interchange  of  courtesies,  and  we  soon  turned 
our  steps  toward  the  birch  and  alder  run  beside  a  well- 
known  trout  brook,  where  woodcock  make  their  home. 
In  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  after  arriving  on 
the  ground.  Rex  at  command  flushed  a  plump  bird  that 
fell  an  easy  shot  to  my  gun.  Working  carefully  down 
the  run  some  distance,  my  companion  heard  an  unusual 
noise  and  asked  me  if  I  did  not  hear  it.  Being  answered 
in  the  negative,  we  continued  our  quest  a  little  longer, 
when  sobbing,  intermingled  with  comforting  words, 
was  heard  as  a  note  of  discord  and  sadness  where  all 
else  was  harmony  and  joy. 

Following  the  direction  whence  came  the  sound,  we 
were  soon  near  two  little  girls,  one  of  whom  was  cry- 
ing and  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would  break,  and  her 
companion  vainly  endeavoring  to  assuage  her  grief  and 
comfort  her  in  her  sorrow.  This  picture  of  sadness  in 
the  early  spring  time  of  life  touched  a  responsive  chord 
and  emphasized  the  story  of  the  good  Samaritan.  We 
soon  learned  the  story  that  Mamie's  little  sister  was 
dead  and  that  they  had  come  to  the  brookside  from 
neighboring  farmhouses  to  get  some  wild  flowers  to 
put  on  her  coffin. 

Just  then  woodcock  and  partridge  had  little  attrac- 
tion for  us,  and,  touched  by  the  pathos  of  the  scene, 
we  also  offered  such  words  of  sympathy  and  comfort 
as  we  could  command  to  the  afiiicted  one,  coupled  with 
the  assurance  of  co-operation  and  aid  in  procuring  the 
floral  tribute  which  was  to  attest  a  sister's  loss  and  sor- 


For  a  time  the  tears  were  dried,  but  choking  sobs 
too  plainly  told  that  the  aching  heart  refused  to  be 


A  Day  in  Massachusetts  Covers.  371 
comforted.  Laying  our  guns  asi.Je,  the  sportsmen 
essayed  the  roll  of  the  florist.  Making  a  light  frame- 
work  of  the  dark  tnigs  of  tlie  black  alder,  we  Hlle.l 
the  interstices  with  moss  from  the  brookside,  and 
around  the  edge,  nicely  lapped  the  one  over  the  other 
we  worked  in  a  rowof  .h.rk  copper-colored  leaves  from' 
a  neighboring  beech  tree.  Upon  tins,  for  a  foundation, 
we  fashioned  a  wreath  of  wih!  clemn'is  and  maiden- 
hair fern,  surmounted  by  a  cro--t]ie  emblem  of  man's 
salvation-compose.!  of  car.linal  flowers  flanked  with 
blne-flringed  gentian. 

The  children  watched  the  progress  of  our  work  with 
growing  interest,  and  the  product  they  gladly  accepted 
as  a  burden  lifted. 

But  our  shooting  for  the  day  was  over  Our  game 
bag  was  not  plethoric,  to  be  sure,  but  sufficient  for 
those  who  realize  that  a  day  spent  under  autumn  skies 
along  the  hillsides  clothed  in  surging  billows  of  color 
or  beside  the  puriing  brook,  where  the  woodsy  odors 
of  lowland  growth  perfume  the  air,  are  not  to  be  meas- 
ured by  the  destruction  wrought. 

When  we  reached  home  in  the  evening  the  same  old 
stars  shone  in  the  firmament,  but  they  seemed  brighter. 
— Forest  and  Stream,  November  18,  1905. 


m. 

1-    ^-"  ■ 

lulu 

l-Lii 

M 

THE  MONARCH  OF  THE  POOL. 


i'l' 


'I! 


THE  morning  of  September  13,  1890,  broke  in 
gloom  over  the  State  of  Maine,  and  the  rain 
beat  a  restful  tattoo  upon  our  camp  on  Little 
Jo  Mary  lake  and  contributed  to  a  lengthy  morning 
snooze  on  our  fragrant  beds  of  spruce  and  hemlock 
boughs.  The  camp-fire  sizzled  and  spit—the  circling 
smoke  now  forced  to  earth  by  fitful  gusts  of  wind  and 
again  circling  up  and  losing  itself  in  the  branches. 
The  weird  notes  of  the  loon  made  mournful  threnody 
with  the  soughing  of  the  wind  in  the  treetops  and  the 
swish  of  the  waves  as  they  broke  upon  the  shore. 
During  the  forenoon  we  snoozed,  played  whist  (our 
wives  being  members  of  the  party),  oiled  boots,  made 
needed  repairs  to  tackle,  mounted  some  new  easts  of 
flies— when  came  the  summons  to  report  at  the  dinner 
table.  Our  stomachs  always  accompany  us  on  our  out- 
ings, and  we  strive  to  treat  them  as  we  would  our  best 
friends,  and  years  of  experience  have  made  us  some- 
what fastidious  in  the  selection  of  a  chef.  The  savory 
odors  that  had  reached  our  camp  for  some  time  previ- 
ous attested  his  skill,  and  tliese,  joined  to  our  sojourn 
in  nature's  haunts  high  up  in  the  mountains,  had  so 
sharpened  our  appetites  that  we  stood  not  upon  cere- 
mony in  obeying  the  call.  That  we  did  ample  justic 
to  the  inner  man  and  to  the  skill  of  our  clief  may  b. 
inferred  when  it  is  known  that  he  said  he  thought  the 
only  rule  lie  would  have  to  make  was  one  limiting  our 
time  at  tlie  table  to  an  hour  and  a  half. 


■i  j'l 


The  Monarch  of  the  Pool.  37,( 

Da^.n'^f".*"''"^  ""''''^-  "•"■  ^I'l-tim^ friend  an.l  com- 
panion  of  former  camna  TI   «  «    j  i         . 

table  and  sang  ouU  '  ^"^^"^  "P  ^'""^  *'"' 

^^^'Here-s  a  go  for  a  paddle  to  the  upper  end  of  the 

Xo  sooner  said  than  he  and  the  writer,  with  Frank 
one  of  our  guides,  as  a  factotum,  were  oft 

The  clou,  s  roUed  low,  an.l  Mount  Katahdin's  night- 
cap  was  St,  1  upon  his  head.    Spiteful  whiteeap,  brokl 

Wen  "'•  r^r'"'  ""'^-^  "'  "•■"---  but  beTo.  el 
laden  we  rode  along  ,,uite  smoothly.  Not  evpec  inl 
to  do  much  if  any  tishing,  we  had  left  all  o    oXS 

uni  r  r''  "  "'"''P  '"''  *'"*  '■'"'  »>-"  l«ft  "n  the  beach 
und.      he  overturned  canoe  and  a  few  oasts  of  Hie 
»  hich  we  carried  around  our  hats 

laktt""  P"*""°S,"*  •»»«'  to  the  opposite  end  of  the 

tomed   by  action  of  the  water  where  a  brook 

en  ers  the  laxe,  passing  which  we  Hnd  deep   .Zr 
ex  ending  back  from  the  mouth  about  a  fourth  of  a 
n>.le,  now  broken  only  by  gentle  ripples.     The  vkth 
var^s  from  twenty  to  fifty  yards,  with  a  foresfg  ow 
on  e  ther  side  and  an  occasional  boulder  as  large  as  1 

rg?drr;:tr^^"""^'*''-^''°---'^-"b" 

W  ho  could  resist  the  temptation  to  cast  ?  The  feeble 
rod  was  soon  joined  and  a  cast  made  by  Harry  -a  sec 
ond,  a  hir.1  and  arise  and  a  strike.  Ih.'  and  a  Ime 
boy  ,s  he.  I  grasp  my  watch  to  take  the  tine  a'  I 
flashed  his  beautiful  sides  out  of  water.  Co  he 
goes;  out  again!  Down  and  off,  and  the  pliant  rod 
>.el.ls  and  the  reel  sings  a  tune  to  which  Pagauin 
never  played  an  adequate  accompaniment 


374 


Gathkeed  Waiflets. 


It  is  give  and  take  aud  take  and  give  for  twenty 
minutes,  when  our  disriple  of  Uncle  liiaak  begins  to 
think  it  more  labor  than  fun,  puts  severe  strain  upon 
the  rod  and  forces  the  fight.  Hy  dint  of  great  effort 
and  much  skill  he  leads  the  victim  around  to  the  stern, 
where  I  sit,  and  as  I  reach  out  my  hand  to  grasp  the 
line  to  lift  him  in,  he  made  a  wild  plunge  for  liberty, 
breaking  the  rod  at  the  second  tying  from  the  tip,  but 
I  grasped  the  line  on  the  instant  and  he  was  landed  in 
the  canoe  and  the  struggle  ended,  when  we  found  that 
we  had  an  addition  of  two  and  a  half  pounds  of  beau- 
tiful freiglit  to  our  cargo. 

"A\'ell.  yes  I  lie  made  a  splendid  fight,  and  I  am 
tired.  You  take  the  rod.  Doctor,  and  give  them  a 
try." 

E.xamining  tlie  rod,  I  find  it,  like  all  cheap  goods, 
only  "a  delusion  and  a  snare."  The  strips  had  never 
been  cemented,  but  glued,  and  the  glue  yielding  to 
the  moisture  h".d  allowed  the  strips  to  separate  and 
bend  over  nearly  to  a  right  angle.  Had  we  another 
rod  along  this  one  doubtless  would  have  gone  where  it 
deserved — to  the  bottom.  But  we  straightened  it  out, 
split  a  quill  toothpick  and  bound  it  firmly  about  the 
rod  with  a  bit  of  line  and  started  down  stream  toward 
the  lake. 

We  had  gone  some  distance  without  a  rise,  and  I 
began  to  doubt  the  efiBcacy  of  my  flies.  A  huge  sunken 
tree  which  had  fallen  athwart  the  stream  at  an  angle  and 
right  in  line  with  an  immense  boulder,  which  extended 
into  the  water,  turned  the  current  and  made  a  whirlpool 
that  looked  to  be  a  moat  promising  spot,  and  I  did  my 
best  for  "  distance,  delicacy  and  accuracy."  And,  lo ! 
a  rise !  a  swirl  of  the  water — and  aU  is  quiet.     I  note 


The  Monarch  of  thr   Pool.  S7r> 

that  he  is  a  very  large  trout  and,  losing  aU  confidence  in 
the  flies  that  I  wag  using,  I  tell  the  paddlers  to  send  the 
craft  right  along  to  the  sand  bar  at  the  month  of  the 
brook     Here  I  mount  a  cast  of  my  favorite  flies  for  a 
dark  day,  tied  by  an  expert  in    he  art,  composed  of  a 
1  armachene  belle,  Montreal,  and  Jenny  Lind  for  drop- 
per,  acd  back  we  turn  to  try  conclusions  with  his  lord- 
ship.  A\  e  near  the  spot  and  I  redouble  my  best  efforts 
A  rise,a  strike,  and  right  about  face  went  our  canoe  down 
stream  for  the  lake  as  if  drawn  by  a  span  of  ponies, 
and  here  we  are,  anchored  to  a  giant,  with  a  disabled 
ro<l  and  no  landing  net.     "Let  him  go,"  said  I,  "but 
keep  the  canoe  in  midstream,  and  if  he  reaches  the 
clear  water  of  the  kke  I  wiU  make  a  landing  at  the 
sand  bar  and  reel  him  out  on  the  beach."     We  fight 
minute  by  minute  and  contest  inch  by  inch.    We  near 
the  mouth  of  the  brook  and  I  prepared  to  step  out- 
but  no,  said  he,  as  he  made  a  grand  break  and  darted 
up  stream  as  if  ho  divined  my  purpose.     He  sulked, 
and  we  thought  it  safe  to  reel  in-a  dart  to  the  sur- 
face,  a  break,  a  dive,  a  break  and  dive  again      Break 
dive,  dart,  sulk  succeeded  break,  dive,  dart  and  sulk' 
Minutes  have  sped  along  into  an  hour,  and  yet  he  is 
not  subdued.     As  we  start  from  the  rapids  on  the 
fourth  tnp  that  he  led  us  up  and  down  the  stream  I 
avowed  that  it  would  be  trout  or  no  trout  this  time 
when  we  reached  the  sand  bar,  as  the  fatigue  that  had 
supervened  had  long  since  eliminated  the  element  of 
sport  and  excitement  from   the  unequal  contest      I 
gave  him  the  butt  of  the  rod  and  succeeded  in  .retting 
his  nose  out  of  the  water.    He  threw  aU  of  his  weight 
upon  the  rod  and  the  pliant  thing  permitted  him  to 
dive  well  beneath  the  surface. 


^f 


«       til 


.176 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


Again  I  forced  his  head  oat  of  water  and  again  he 
(love  to  the  bottom,  but  with  less  strength  and  deter- 
mination, and  he  sooner  yielded  to  the  pressure  on  the 
rod.  Ilis  strength  is  failing,  and  yet  he  is  game  and 
a  very  unwilling  captive.  We  reached  the  sand  bar 
and  I  stepped  out  followed  by  the  crew.  The  canoe 
was  beai'hed  and  I  reeled  in.  The  boatmen,  each 
armed  with  a  paddle,  surrounded  his  kingship  and 
followed  him  in  until  I  landed  upon  the  sand  this 
foeman  worthy  of  our  steel.  lie  tipped  the  scales  at 
.')  1-4  pounds,  and,  while  many  a  larger  one  has  fallen 
victim  to  tempting  lure  and  human  skill,  I  cannot  con- 
ceive of  and  never  expect  to  have  a  greater  battle 
than  I  had  with  this  monarch  of  the  pool,  which  was 
hotly  contested  every  moment  during  one  hour  and 
twenty-nine  minutes.— /^bres^  and  Stream,  April  30, 
1891. 


Ol'll  TRIP  TO  LITTLE  JO  MARY. 


I  1 


«B' 


JROWNVILLE !  BrownviUe  .'"—and thetrain 
came  to  a  standstill  before  the  little  railroad 
station  of  that  name  Down  East,  in  tlie  State 
of  Maine — the  El  Dorado  of  Eastern  sportsmen.  All 
was  hurry  and  bustle,  j  ;  passengers  with  bundles 
alighted  from  and  entered  the  train,  the  hearty  and 
cordial  greeting  of  re-united  friends  on  the  one  hand 
making  straiij,'e  contrast  with  the  tearful,  tender  good- 


OiR  Trip  to  Littlk  Jo  Mahv.  377 

byes  and  sad  fareweU,  ou  the  other.    So  it  ever  is  ev- 
remes  meet,  but  the  pilgrims  from  the  old  BaJ  siaTe 
JaJ  no  t,me  to  indulge  sentiment  as  the  morning  w, 

L.  51  Gen-ish,  our  head  g.  ide  and  c-hef,  was  on  hand 

V  nn  «f ""   u     '"";'  ^'"  """''^  "'  *'-  ''"J"  -■>• 
on.  nl       "■"        ^"I-'-rtuities  are  left  until  our  return 

e  boy,  Nat  the  writer  and  hi,  „!{«  an.l  three  .„ide. 

n^e  Lr"'  'Tr  """'■"■^  '"'  ^'"'  -■"--  '"-  "  -' 
ne,essary  camp  duffle,   were  on  their  way   «ith  two 

teams  to  Sehoodie  Lake,  some  «ix  miles  distant 

I  here  we  boarded  a  rowboat  «n,l  a  o.noe.     Z  B 
^".ght  the  stalwart  veteran  boatman,  who«e  resi.lenoe 
near  the  shore  of  the  lake,  ha.l  been  engaged  to  "w 
th    party  to  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  ,,ml  H.ht  .ve 

d  he  perform  the  task,  rowing  the  eight  miles  in 
on,eth,ng  less  than  two  hours.     U'hen  we  pushed  .ft 
from  the  shore  we  left  oivilization  behin.l,  but  wha   a 
panorama  opened  out  before  nson  every  hand!    lu 
Leadlan.ls  jutting  out  into  the  lake  covered  with  raVn 
bow4inted  foliage,  white  birches  like  belated  ghos ^  i^ 
boad  contrast  with  the  sombre  pines,  whose  extended 
branches  seemed  hke  outstretched  arms  as  if  to  give 
us  welcome-hill  top  an.l  mountain  vieing  witlu  1 
top  and  mountain  until  in  the  dim  distance  their  out' 
lines  l.,oked  like  steel  engravings,  suggesting  such 
T,,         , ,  "A  pomp  of  scene, 

J  he  noblest  sure  that  nature  in  her  play 
Ut  power  eer  shaped." 
An  element  of  danger  was  the  enormous  ro.-ky  cliffs 


m 


878 


Gatiikred  Waiflets. 


i    i 


and  bouldeni  whoBe  danf^eroufi  heads  lay  coner  jled  be- 
neath the  surface  uf  the  water.  We  came  very  near 
to  paying;  sad  tribute  to  their  presence  by  the  bow  of 
our  heavily  laden  boat — with  four  pasiengers  and  a 
generous  portion  of  the  camp  supplies — runninf;  upon 
one,  which,  but  for  the  presence  of  mind  and  skill  of 
our  boatman,  might  have  resulted  in  serious  consequen- 
ces. "Keep  still!  Don't  move  an  inch"  were  his 
words  of  caution  as  he  put  forth  his  best  efforts  to 
keep  the  boat  from  drifting  around  with  the  wind  and 
capsizing.  Hut  tlie  stiff  breeze  and  heavy  freight  were 
too  mucli  for  hifi  strength,  and  the  writer,  who  was  sit- 
ting in  the  bow,  cautiously  stepped  out  upon  the  boul- 
der and  with  a  lift  and  push  the  craft  was  afloat  again. 
A  sharp  lookout  thereafter  prevented  a  repetition  of 
the  thrilling  e.xperience.  Lauding  was  made  soon 
after  mid-day,  a  hearty  lunch  partaken  of,  and  the 
procession  moved  forward  on  its  march  of  a  dozen 
miles  along  an  old  tote  road  through  an  unbroken 
wilderness — a  journey  we  were  informed  that  no  lady 
had  ever  undertaken  before. 

A  staunch  team  bad  been  provided  over  which  Steve 
Thomas,  a  backwoods  character,  if  not  a  genius,  held 
the  reins.  Words  would  make  but  a  poor  showing 
were  they  used  as  they  Vtest  might  be  in  an  attempt 
to  give  an  adequate  description  of  the  voyage,  for  cer- 
tainly the  vehicle  in  its  ups  and  downs  over  stump 
and  boulder,  over  hillock  and  slough  and  rickety  cor- 
duroy, more  nearly  resembled  a  craft  on  a  turbulent 
and  tempest-tossed  ocean  than  any  organization  on 
wheels  on  terra  flrma.  But  our  Jehu  was  a  character, 
and  in  addition  to  his  exceeding  care  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  team,  his  keen  wit,  droll  humor,  and  skill- 


OfB  Trip  to  Littlk  J,>  JIarv.  H7!t 

ful  repartee  kept  the  ladies  in  a  roar  of  Inu^hter 
wh-h,  combine.!  with  the  novelty  of  the  e.xnerien..e 
reL  3r«.l  thu  not  among  the  leant  enjoyable  features 
of  ...e  trip.  On  Koing  through  an  unusually  ba.I  i,i«.« 
of  road,  ,f  there  was  any  that  would  justify  Hud,  char- 
acterixation,  one  of  the  hordes  ,mt  a  .hoe  whiH.  h«h 
lost  in  the  mire:  but  the  bn,-'.woodsman  let  „,,  such 
small  thins  <ii8turb  his  e,,uanin.ity.  Tl,e  horse  was 
liberated  from  his  fellow,  the  utility  bo.v  br.,uc,ht  out 
and  before  the  lapse  of  many  minutes  another  shoe  ha.l 
replaced  the  lost  one. 

The  afternoon  rapidly  wore  away,  and  tlie  lenirth. 
ene,l  shadows  warned  us  that  we  culd  not  reach  our 
destination  that  night,  and,  hurry  along  as  best  we 
may  in  the  gloaming,  we  did  not  reacli  Kl)eme  Lod.re 
a  log  camp  by  the  wayside  in  the  wood^,  „„til 
"Night  had  let  its  curtain  down 
An'    .  '.nned  it  with  a  star." 
Here  we  camped  for  the  night,  an.l,  after  the  fatigue 
of  the  day,  we  had  no  inclination  to  prolong  the  even- 
ing  hour,  but  were  soon  lost  in  refresliing  sleep      We 
had  not  the  forethought  to  propitiate  the  weather  clerk 
before  retiring,  and  when  we  awoke  in  the  morning  we 
found  ourselves  in  a  dreary,  .lismal  downpour  of  rain 
that  promised  a  bar  to  further  progress  that  day     Our 
party  was  made  up  of  those  with  whom,  when  on  an 
outing  in  the  woods,  "everything  goes,"  and  hence  no 
grumbling  or  fault-finding  was  openly  indulged  in- 
whatever  might  have  h^,..^  our  inner  sentiments. 

Towards  raid-day  the  rain  ceased  falling,  and  loading 
the  ladies  and  dunnago  upon  a  jumper,  as  a  wagon 


could  go  no  further,  we  took  our  leave  of  the  frienu, 
roof  that  had  furnished  us  such  welcome  shelter.    Th 


dly 


«S() 


GaTIIRRKD    WtirLKTS. 


i: 


Bkill  aud  oare  of  tie  KinR-man  at  all  times,  antl  the 
Htrength  of  two  f{ui(leg  in  addition  were  many  times 
crllud  into  rHijuiiiition  tu  keep  the  irraft  from  capiii/.in){ 
an  it  rolled,  pitohetl  and  tumbled  about  over  boulders, 
knnllg  and  cnign,  but  everything  went  well  until  one 
runner  became  ho  tirmly  wedged  in  between  tree  mots 
and  boulders  tliat  «nap  went  the  great  cable  ciiain  to 
which  the  team  was  attached,  au<l  yet  not  a  part  of  the 
jumper  broke  or  gave  way,  bo  well  was  it  constructed 
in  the  hooiIh  of  green  hornbeam — and  there  was  not 
an  iron  bolt  nor  brace  in  the  stnicture.  Hastily  cnt- 
tini"  a  sapling  for  a  lever  and  prying  up  the  runner, 
the  uraw  ciiain  was  scon  toggled,  and  we  were  again 
on  our  way  witli  but  a  few  minutes  ilelay.  We  reached 
camp  in  the  early  evening  and  found  everything  neat 
aud  tidy,  ipiickly  disposed  of  a  generous  supper  and 
were  soon  lost  in  pleasant  dreams  on  our  beds  of  fra- 
grant spruce  and  hemlock,  wliile  a  roaring  camp-tire 
blazed  Iiigh  without  and  gave  an  added  charm  to  tlie 
night. 

The  fatigues  of  the  previous  days  contributed  to  a 
lengthy  morning  nap,  and  we  were  aroused  from  our 
slumbers  by  the  presence  of  strangers  in  camp.  Turn- 
ing out  and  making  a  hasty  toilet  we  found  a  genial 
fellow  sportsman  from  Boston,  and  guide,  in  waiting 
to  tender  tlie  compliments  of  tlieir  camp  on  the  Middle 
Jo  JIary,  some  six  miles  distant,  m  here  some  half  dozen 
prt)fe88ional  and  business  men  for  many  years  liad  fol- 
lo\ve<l  Thoreau's  example  and  made  their  camp  on  its 
romantic  shores.  With  kin<lly  forethought,  being  in- 
formeil  when  they  were  going  in  of  the  date  of  our 
arrival,  and  knowing  that  we  would  be  fatigued  after 
the  journey,  they  brought  with  them  numbers  of  beau- 


OiR  Trip  t,>  Littlk  Jo  Mary. 


.•IK  I 


tifiil  trout  that  oiir  feiisti 


,,  ,       .   ,       ''"Sf  ""•'  fDJoyrnHnt  (if  life  in 

the  woo,U  miglit  beRin  with  the  fim  moruinif.  (  „„rte. 
..e»  th«t  were  highly  enjoye,!  by  u»  were  L,,„eotly 
exchanKed  between  the  o^mpn,  an.I  the  writer  imlulJ, 
the  hope  that  he  may  again  grasp  the  frien.lly  hamln 
an.l  share  the  boun.lle..  h„spit«lity  of  the  jolly  oamp- 
ers  on  the  Middle  Jo  Mary.  ' 

(foing  down  to  the  water's  edge,  we  found  „„  oblong 
lake  8ome  four  by  Hve  n.iles  in  e.vtent,  s„rro„ude,I  l,y 
dense  forent  growth,  with  tier  upon  tier  of  ,no„nt„ins 
in  the  distance,  now  looming  up  in  the  morning  sun- 
Hh.ne  w,th  the  Hummit  of  i:„t„l.din  in  the  b«..k.m.u,  1 
H-rne  twenty  miles  away.  As  we  looked  up:.,  tj 
scene  we  rea'  !ed  that 

"High        untains  are  u  feeling,  but  the  hum 
Of  human  eUies  torture." 

What  a, luiet,  restful  scene!  IIow  we  e,xp,,n.l  our 
m.K.«nddnnk,ntheh.  "h-giving  o.one':  There 
in  the  cove  yonder  are  a  other  .b,e  au,l  her  fulj. 
grown  young  .l.sporting  himself  in  the  water-  here 
w.th.n  a  few  ro.ls,  saunter  about  a  black  duck  m.d  he; 
brood  of  ducklings,  as  proud  and  unconcerned  as  if  no 
enemy  were  near;  there  a  break  in  the  water  as  some 
monster  trout  completes  his  morning  meal 

Our  reverie  is  disturbe.l  by  the  advent  of  a  canoe 

an.   a  cheery  voice  sang  out :     "(Jet  aboard,  and  let  us' 

at  thern^      AVe  were  soon  enjoying  the  pleasures  of 
he  sport  and  soon  provide.!  an  ample  supplv  for  the 

lar. ler,  returning  to  the  water  all  that  ..ould  „ot  b,. 

.me.l,  as  it  ,s  our  rule  never  t..  waste  .,r  wantonly  ,le. 

stroy.  ■' 

The  declining  s„n  f.,nn,l  us  at  the  water's  e.lge  in 
wonderment  an.l  a.lmiration  at  the  play  of  col..rs  in 


883 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


the  clouds  and  on  the  summits  of  the  mountains. 
Streamers  of  green  and  gold  shot  up  to  the  zenith  until 
it  seemed  as  if  the  dome  of  heaven  was  decorated  by 
ang-il  hands,  and  the  mountain  tops  were  clothed  in  a 
living,  brilliant  purple  that  shaded  into  the  darkness 
of  night  with  the  setting  sun.  The  day  ended,  we 
gathered  around  the  earap-fire,  with  forest  trees  hoary 
with  age  as  sentinels  all  around  us. 

"  'Tis  eve,  'tis  night ;  a  holy  quiet  broods 
O'er  the  mute  world ;  winds,  waters  are  at  peace ; 
The  beasts  lie  couched  amid  unstirring  woods ; 
The  fishes  slumber  in  the  sounds  and  seas ; 
No  twit'ring  bird  sings  farewell  from  the  trees." 
The  evening  wind  sang  a  crescendo  llirough  the  sur- 
rounding forest  and  swung  its  censer  of  incense  breath- 
ing balsam  and  pine,  and  we  dropped  off  in  blissful, 
restful  slumber  until  again 

"  The  vapers  round  the  mountains  curled 
Melt  into  mom  and  light  awakes  the  world." 

And  90  went  days  and  weeks,  and  who  shall  say  that 
we  did  not  regret  when  the  hour  of  parting  came? 
But  stem  duty  called,  and,  as  if  from  a  gentle  reverie 
aroused,  we  returned  to  the  treadmill  of  every  day 
life,  looking  forward  in  fond  anticipation  to  the  time 
when  we  will  again  make  our  camp  and  build  our 
camp-fire  on  the  Little  Jo  Mary. — Foreit  and  Stream, 
September  17,  1891. 


M 


REMINISCENT. 


A  il 


THE  modest  hepatica  and  the  fragrant  mayflower, 
harbingers  of  springtime  and  welcome  guests, 
have  come  and  gone,  and  the  catkins  on  the 
wiUow  that  appear  before  the  snows  of  winter  depart, 
have  long  since  been  succeeded  by  the  frondeseence  of 
early  summer.  The  burning  sun  of  June  invites  to 
shade  and  cool  retreat  whence  we  may  see  the  heat 
waves  rise  from  earth  and  dance  and  tremble  until 
lost  m  the  higher  atmosphere.  Not  a  breath  stirs, 
and  It  seems  as  if  we  are  aU  alone  in  the  world  and 
nature  is  enjoying  a  siesta.  But  no,  for  right  here  on 
our  left  a  colony  of  ants  ply  their  honest  toil,  a  spider 
noislessly  spreads  his  net  in  the  branches  overhead 
and  a  katydid  breaks  in  with  its  sibilant,  rasping  song.' 
Our  companion  of  many  a  day  in  field  and  covert, 
tired  of  panting  and  lolling,  throws  himself  broadside 
upon  the  ground,  and  let  us  hope  that  he,  like  his  mas- 
ter, finds  comfort  and  pleasure  in  the  recoUection  of 
distant  but  not  forgotten  days  of  autumn  time. 

Ah!  we  have  been  there!— and  in  these  sweltering 
days  it  does  one  good  to  recaU  those  other  days  of 
comfort  and  pleasure,  days  when  the  cares  of  business 
and  the  perplexities  of  life  were  laid  aside  and  forgot- 
ten. Our  thoughts  go  back  to  a  day  upon  the  hills 
and  in  the  runs  of  the  old  Bay  State  that  wiU  linger 
long  as  a  cherished  remembrance,  not  because  we  shot 
remarkably  well  nor  scored  such  a  large  bag  of  birds. 


384 


Gathered  Waiflbts. 


■I    1 


for  we  never  measure  our  pleasure  by  the  size  of  our 
bag.  The  early  drive  in  the  clear,  frosty  morning 
air,  genial  companionship,  no  friction  or  mishf  -,  cor- 
dial reception  at  our  destination,  fine  working  '  ogs, 
reasonable  number  of  birds,  and  fair  success  in  aeir 
capture,  aU  contribute  to  the  enjoyment  of  our  outing. 

A  valued  gunning  friend  and  the  writer  had  planned 
for  a  dfiy  out  during  the  fnU  moon  of  October,  when 
the  flight  of  woodcock  would  be  on,  and  with  the 
enthusiasm  of  school-boys  we  awaited  the  arrival  of 
the  day.  ^Ve  arranged  for  an  early  start  as  our  desti- 
nation H!is  a  dozen  miles  distant,  and  we  have  a  de- 
cided preference  for  the  early  morning  hours  in  the 
covert.  The  writer  turned  in  early  the  night  before 
and  dreamed  of  birds,  birds,  birds.  Arousing  from  a 
sound  slumber  I  think  it  near  morning,  and  hastily 
arising  tind  it  only  2  o'clock.  I  return  to  bed  but 
not  to  sleep.  At  .'5  o'clock  we  are  measuring  off  dis- 
tance on  the  road.  The  morning  air  is  keen,  clear  and 
bracing,  and  we  spank  along  at  a  good  pace,  well  bun- 
dled up  and  comfortable.  We  soon  arrive  at  our  des- 
tination and  find  our  old  stamping  grounds  posted. 
We  are  about  to  drive  along  to  other  haunts,  when 

Mr.  S came  out  of  his  house  and  accosted  us  with 

a  cheery  "Good  morning,  gentlemen,  good  morning." 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  S .     We   drove  out   for 

a  day's  shooting,  but  we  see  you  have  your  place 
posted." 

"Yes,  but  drive  your  team  right  into  the  barn  and 
shoot  all  you  want  to.  I  have  posted  my  place  be- 
cause of  pot-hunters  who  in  years  past  have  been  here 
day  after  day,  and  you'd  think  to  see  and  hear  them 
that  they  owned  the  place.     They  never  thought  it 


Rkminiscent. 


88fi 


worth  while  to  ask 


:  permission,  and  they've  killed  lots 
of  birds  here  and  have  never  had  decency  enough  to 
offer  me  a  brace  or  even  to  as  much  as  thank  me. 
Then  I've  been  annoyed  by  a  good  deal  of  Sunday 
shooting,  and  I  won't  have  it.  But  you  gentlemen  are 
just  as  welcome  as  ever  to  come  here  and  shoot." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  S ;    we  certainly  appreciate 

your  kindness  and  will  endeavor  not  to  abuse  it." 

"That's  all  right.  I've  never  had  occasion  to  regret 
your  coming." 

Before  the  conversation  was  ended  the  team  was 
cared  for  and  two  eager  gunners  were  ready  for  the 
fray.  Our  steps  were  turned  toward  a  small  brook 
below  the  house,  flanked  on  either  side  by  a  narrow 
alder  run,  with  a  few  scrub  pines  and  apple  trees,  and 
elevated  land  on  either  side. 

My  friend's  AVilliain  TeU  (.'•)224),  that  rare  good  dog, 
accompanied  us,  and  he  was  as  anxious  and  joyous  as 
his  owner  and  companion  for  the  sport  of  the  day. 
Parenthetically,  I  may  say  that  Tell  descended  from 
generations  of  noble  ancestry,  and  that  his  unsur- 
passed performances  in  the  field  were  his  by  honest 
inheritance.  Nor  were  his  good  qualities  limited  to 
the  field,  as  his  winnings  on  the  bench  at  New  York, 
Boston,  Providence,  New  Haven  and  other  places  bear 
ample  testimony.     Nat  1884.     Ob.  1891. 

"Doc,  you  keep  along  on  the  edge  of  the  hiU  a  lit- 
tle ahead  and  above  the  alders,  and  I  will  go  in  with 
Tell.  It  is  so  thick  in  there  I  don't  think  I  can  shoot; 
and  if  old  Mr.  Grouse  boils  up  I  want  you  to  knock 
him  over." 

"All  right,  Charley,  I'll  do  the  best  I  can." 

We  moved  quietly  along  some  little  distance,  when 


;  ij 


886 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


Jo  !^ 


%:{ 


ii:  J 


I  am  informed  that  there  are  birds  there,  as  Tell  is 
making  game. 
"Look  out,  Doc,  Tell  has  a  point!" 
No  need  to  caution  Tell  to  steady  him,  as  he  was  as 
staunch  as  a  rock  and  was  never  known  to  flush  a  bird 
through  his  own  fault. 

\\'liin--ri-rr-bang!— n-n-rr.  As  he  rose  Charley 
got  a  snap  shot  in  close  cover,  and  he  "boiled  out,"  so 
1  thought,  at  least,  out  of  gun  shot  for  ma,  but  I  did 
my  best  to  stop  Iiim.  Certain  it  was  that  the  wary 
grouse  escaped  us  both  unscathed. 

"Charley,  come  up  here !  I  have  marked  him  down 
up  there  in  that  undergrowth  by  the  stone  wall  on  the 
other  side  of  the  road,  and  we  ought  to  get  him  now!" 
""WeU,  Doc,  I'll  go  up  around  on  the  other  side  of 
him  and  turn  him  back  down  the  run.  If  he  goes  up 
over  the  hill  it  wiU  be  good  day  to  him.  So  you  get 
in  between  him  and  the  run  and  you  will  get  a  good 
open  shot." 

We  are  soon  in  position  and  Tell  again  points  him 
under  a  snarly  grape  vine,  which,  with  sumach  and 
pine,  made  a  cover  so  dense  that  Charley  could  not  see 
him  when  he  arose.  But  down  the  hiU  he  came  by 
me  flying  low  and  much  like  a  flash  c  greased  light- 
ning. I  threw  in  ahead  and  puUed  with  "the  finger 
of  instinct  and  the  eye  of  faith,"  and  had  the  plrasure 
of  seeing  feathers  dirifting  down  the  hill-side  as  a  re- 
sult 
"Did  you  get  hir-  Doc  2" 

"He  is  our  bird,  Charley,  I  think.     At  least  I  have 
some  of  his  plumage  as  a  souvenir.     But  didn't  he  eo 
though?" 
TeU  is  soon  on  the  scent  and  trails  him  down  to  the 


RkmINI8CENT.  3gy 

water's  edge,  but  finds  no  bird.  We  join  him  in  the 
search  and  look  the  ground  over  carefully  and  tho^ 
onghly,  but  without  success. 

th  JIm«Tr'"7'""  '■'''f'^  ^^  *'■« '''"'««  "P  ""d  down 

earch  He?  T  '"  ^T.  "^"^  ^^^  -"*■"-«  ^^e 
search.     He  travels  up  and  down  along  the  brook  chal- 

Wrd"sfr,';7/°°'r'  "^°"^'  ^^^'^^  back  where  the 
bird  struck  the  earth  and  works  the  ground  over  and 

rruirrath"""-""'"""^  ^p^''*"^*»'«  --^" 

we  would  rather  miss  several  clean  than  fail  to  secure 
a  dead  or  wounded  bird.  Skirting  the  brook  doZ 
ward  to  an  unusual  distance  Tell  strikes  scent  on  a 
flat  stone  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  which  at  this 
point  IS  quite  wide  and  shallow,  and  is  soon  on  the 
other  side  where  he  again  takes  up  the  scent  and  traTl 

point  at  some  gnarly  roots  of  a  partially  overturned 
tree,  ^\e  look  in  vain  to  see  anything  of  the  bird 
but  reaching  in  under  the  roots  as  faras  hecould  Chi t 
%  grasped  and  withdrew  from  his  hiding  place  a  very 
large  cock  grouse  with  one  wing  shot  off  Ve  agreed 
that  we  had  never  seen  more  persistent  or  better  work 
retneving  done  by  any  dog,  as  the  cunning  of  the  b   ,1 

tlfto  b  ir""'"' ''™  *"  ^"'' '"  -'  —  *•> 

water  to  break  the  scent.  ^Ye  resumed  our  w,  lown 
the  run  and  did  not  proceed  far  before  anotu.  .■  bird 
broke  cover  out  of  .Lot  nor  stopped  in  his  flight  until 
after  passing  out  of  sight  over  the  distant  hilltop.  ]„ 
due  time  "JIark !  Bang !"  an.l  Charley's  gun  does  the 
deed  of  death  before  the  bird  showed' himseabov 

in  fr  IT  ''''  "^  """  "*  »'-  1--  -J  of  the 
run  and  I  take  my  position  upon  a  little  cleared  knoll 
around  which  the  brook  makes  a  bend  at  nearly  a  right 


fl 


888 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


II  i 


angle  to  it?  former  course.  We  usually  found  a  covey 
of  birds  at  its  foot,  scattered  among  the  blackberries 
and  scrub  growth  which  when  flushed  flew  directly  over 
the  hillock  to  the  dense  woods  beyond. 

"Now,  Doc,  don't  get  rattled.  If  there  a'e  any 
birds  in  there  you  know  Tell  can  be  depended  on.  I 
won't  send  over  but  one  at  a  time." 

Charley  and  Tell  strike  out  and  surround  the  spot 
and  soon  "Point !    Lookout!" 

Whin^rr-rr—  bang!  bang  right  into  my  face  and 
past  me  without  touching  a  feather. 

"Are  you  ready?  Look  out!"  Bang,  and  a  clean 
kill  as  he  went  quartering  away  on  my  left. 

"Another  point!  mark!"  and  Charley's  gun  stopped 
another  in  his  flight  before  he  got  well  under  way. 
"Tell  has  another  point  ?  mark !" 
Whirr-n^rr  right  in  line  for  the  muzzle  of  my  gun 
and  killed  clean  at  easy  range.     Another  bird  took 
wing  on  Charley's  left  which  went  quartering  away 
out  of  gunshot  and  no  ammunition  was  wasted  on  him. 
"Well,  that  is  good  sport.  Doc.     How  many  did  you 
get?" 
"Two." 

"Well,  two  out  of  three  shots  is  not  bad  in  such 
cover  as  this." 

We  gather  up  the  birds  and  return  to  the  bam  for 
lunch  with  five  nice  plump  birds.  We  are  invited  into 
the  house  but  prefer  to  eat  al  fresco  and  enjoy  the 
warm  sunshine.  A  pumpkin  pie  and  a  pitcher  of 
milk  were  sent  out  to  us  and  they  served  to  round  out 
a  hearty  lunch.  We  put  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  promises 
to  pay  ox.  the  plate  when  it  was  returned  to  the  house. 
Being  somewhat  fatigued  from  the  unusual  exercise  of 


RSXINIACKMT. 


389 


m 


the  foreuoon,  we  took  a  short  rest  and  then  started  for 
the  run  above  the  house,  and  worked  over  consider- 
able territory  without  getting  a  point.  We  arrived  at 
a  well-known  marshy  place  that  was  densely  over- 
grown with  grape  vines  and  which  seldom  failed  to 
hold  birds. 

"Now,  Doc,  you  go  around  and  get  into  that  old 
wood  road  and  I  will  work  this  the  best  I  can  out  to 
you.  You  know  a  fellow  can't  get  a  shot  in  such  a 
jangle." 

"All  right,  Charley,  give  me  five  minutes  to  get  my 
position,  then  come  right  through." 

I  have  not  long  to  wait  before  the  thunder  of  pin- 
ions appraises  me  to  be  on  the  alort.  Instantly  I  see 
a  bird  coming  directly  toward  me  and  another  making 
off  at  nearly  a  right  angle.  Banf,  bang;  and  when 
Charlie  appeared  lie  inquired  : 

"How  many  were  there^' 

"Two." 

"Which  way  did  they  go?" 

"Come  here  and  1  will  show  you." 

"Here  is  one,"  said  I,  pointing  to  my  ,  )t,  "and  the 
other  is  over  there  by  that  little  sluice  where  it  runs 
under  the  road." 

"Both?" 

"For  certain." 

"Bravo!  but  that  is  good." 

"Charley,  that  makes  a  pretty  good  bag  and  as  we 
are  somewhat  tired  and  the  afternoon  is  on  the  wane, 
what  do  you  say  to  going  over  to  the  wh-ti  birches 
and  trying  for  woodcock?" 

"It's  a  go,"  said  Charley,  and  we  los'  no  time  in 
reaching  our  favorite  flight  woodcock  ground.     We 


ii 


3B0  Gathered  Waitlets. 

tlid  not  go  Beventy-tive  yards  beyond  tlie  stone  wall 
before  Tell  pointed,  and  Charley  walked  in  and  fluslied 
a  fine  bin!  which  he  grassed  neatly  with  a  single  gun. 
We  worked  idong  some  little  distance.  Tell  cliallenging 
fre(iuently  but  finding  no  birds  until  nearing  a  little 
opening  wliere  he  pointed  near  a  tussock  grown  over 
with  a  brushy  undergrov.th.  Both  have  good  posi- 
tions, and  when  he  is  flushed  two  guns  at  the  same  in- 
stant roar  out  their  message  of  deatli,  and  another 
plump  bird  is  deposited  in  our  game  bag. 

The  sun  had  kissed  the  topmost  hills  and  we  were 
warned  to  retrace  our  steps,  and  making  a  detour  in 
the  direction  of  our  team  we  had  just  climbed  over  a 
stone  wall  when  up  flew  a  bird  without  any  warn- 
ing, and  making  a  hasty  snap  shot  I  missed  witli  my 
ttrst,  but  scored  a  nice,  clean  kill  at  long  range  with 
my  second.  Another  bird  fell  to  CJharlie's  gun  on  the 
way  to  the  house,  making  our  score  for  the  day  eleven 
birds.  We  selected  a  fine  brace  of  grouse  and  pre- 
sented them  to  our  host,  who  was  much  pleased,  and 
he  gave  us  a  very  cordial  invitation  to  come  again. 
We  reached  home  in  the  early  evening,  tired,  contented 
and  happy,  our  appetites  whetted  by  the  exertion  and 
bracing  air  of  the  day.  Soon  after  getting  thoroughly 
warmed  up  and  eating  a  hearty  supper,  Morpheus 
wrapped  us  in  his  mantle  and  transported  us  to  the 
land  of  pleasant  dreams.— Fores*  and  Stream,  June  ~^ 
1S92. 


i  ;i 


#1  • 


A  VERACIOUS  NARRATION. 


*:l  H 


"U 


OOKS  as  though  the  storm  was  abont  over 
and  I  gnesB  it's  going  to  be  colder,"  were 
Charley  Steele's  words  of  salutation  and 
prophesy  when  he  dropped  in  one  afternoon  in  antumn 
after  a  driving  rain  that  lasted  several  days.  The 
words  were  not  hastily  spoken,  and  their  manner  of 
( Iterance  would  not  remind  one  of  the  impetnous 
schoolboy  bubbling  over  with  animal  spirits  and  over- 
elated  at  the  prospect  of  soon  enjoying  a  day  on  the  ice 
with  his  skates.  No  I  there  is  nothing  impetuous 
about  Charley,  and  his  going  out  and  coming  in,  his 
easy,  swinging  gait  and  drawling  intonation  suggest 
that  he  was  not  bom  in  a  hurry  and  that  he  has  not 
made  war  upon  his  inheritance. 

Be  the  fates  propitious  or  otherwise,  his  equanimity 
is  not  disturbed,  and  his  ability,  patience,  perse- 
verance and  untiring  industry  combined  with  droll 
humor  and  apt  rejoinder  make  him  a  prized  compan- 
ion for  an  outing.  Are  there  any  trout  brooks  acces- 
sible, Charley  carries  a  mental  map  of  the  topography 
of  the  country  for  miles  around,  each  rippling  brook 
clearly  defined  from  source  to  coniluence  as  if  graven 
on  metal,  and  each  bend  and  pool  that  furnishes  home 
and  hiding  place  tor  piscatorial  beauty  yields  abundant 
tribute  to  his  tempting  lure. 

Birds!  Well,  the  boys  say  that  they  don't  dare  to 
mate  in  the  spring  until  he  gives  his  consent  and  des- 
ignates their  nesting  places. 


I   i  5 


ma 


Oatribed  WAinvTS, 


'       1 


I  agreed  with  him  that  we  were  likely  to  get  colder 
weather,  and  now  that  the  leavea  had  been  beaten 
from  the  trees,  it  would  be  a  good  time  to  take  a  day 
off  and  pay  oor  respects  to  the  birds.  The  suggestion 
proved  an  exact  fit,  and  the  next  morning,  keen  and 
frosty,  two  gunners  well  bundled  up  with  all  necessary 
impedimenta  drove  out  to  the  northern  covers.  Buoy- 
ant at  the  prospect,  we  were  at  peace  with  ourselves 
and  all  the  world,  the  smoke  from  the  fragrant  Ha- 
vanns  lending  added  comfort  and  perfuming  the  air 
for  yards  around. 

An  hour's  ride  landed  us  several  miles  out  where  a 
small  cover  iilled  in  one  comer  and  a  swale  with  scrub 
growth  the  opposite  where  the  turnpike  crosses  an- 
other at  right  angles. 

"Guess  we  had  better  hitch  here  and  try  this  little 
patch.  You  go  into  the  open  pasture  on  the  other  side 
of  the  road  and  I'll  take  Pete  and  go  down  the  road 
and  beat  the  cover  back  to  you.  If  a  bird  boils  out 
he  will  come  right  into  your  face  as  he  cuts  across  the 
comer  for  the  swale — and  you  know  he  don't  count 
if  you  don't  drop  him." 

"All  right,  Charley.  You  put  him  up  and  he  is  our 
bird.    1  feel  just  like  it  this  clear,  frosty  morning." 

I  am  not  long  in  my  place  before  I  hear  the  tinkle, 
tinkle  of  Pete's  bell  as  he  carefully  quartered  the  nar- 
row cover,  and  soon  I  got  an  occasional  glimpse  of 
Charley's  head  as  he  worked  his  way  towards  me. 
Coming  within  speaking  distance  he  said : 

"I  guess  there  ain't  any  birds  here  this  morning, 
but  somehow  Pete  don't  seem  to  want  to  give  it  up. 
He's  been  challenging  and  trailing,  but  I  guess  it  must 
be  a  rabbit  that's  run  into  the  wall  in  front  of  you." 


A  VnAOioDs  Narbatioit.  893 

Pete  mewwhile  h.d  worked  ap  under  an  .pple  tm 
A  ^""'f'*  °'  ""dersrrowth  by  the  ttone  w.U  on  the 
roadside  and  stiffened  ont  on  a  rigid  point 
Pete  has  a  point,  Docl" 

"Whin-n-p,  bang!  "-and    a  plump  grouse  foU 
within  two  :   rds  of  my  feet  "^       ^  ^ 

"Didn't  I  teU  you,  Charley,  that  I  felt  just  like  it? 
Why,  I  feel  that  it  is  just  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world 
to  down  anything  that  flies  to<lay. 
t  1^^  »"""'^''*«'  the  ruffled  plumage  and  carefully 
folded  the  wings  of  the  noble  bird  that  but  a  moment 
ago  was  instinct  with  life  an.l  deposited  it  in  ourgame 
rocket  We  drove  along  to  the  farm  house  beyond 
the  hill,  where  we  received  a  c,  ^lial  welcome  and  an 
invitation  to  put  our  team  in  the  ham.  \U  were 
soon  in  the  apple  tree  run  west  of  the  house. 

Doc,  yon  go  up  around  and  take  your  stand  by 
that  big  chestnut  in  the  open  up  there  about  2(m 
yards  I  can  take  care  of  any  birds  that  may  be  about 
here  but  when  I  get  into  that  tangled  grape  vine  mess 
up  there  I  can  t  shoot,  and  you  know  that  they  cut  right 
across  the  opening  by  the  chestnut  to  the  cover  be- 
yond. 

"AU  right,  Charley,  and  I'll  cut  them  down  before 
they  cut  across." 

Charley  worked  the  covert  out  faithfuUy  and  uell 
but  started  no  bird  until  he  got  into  the  grape  vine 
thicket,  where  Pete  made  a  staunch  point,  which  Char- 
ley  duly  announced. 

"All  right  here,  Charley;  send  her  along" 

At  command  Pete  ilushed,  and  1  saw  Mrs.  Grouse 
making  a  bee  line  for  my  head.  I  had  ample  time  to 
put  my  gun  to  my  shoulder  and  take  deliberate  aim 


894 


Gathcrss  Wkirvm, 


■I    ' 


'I   ; 


i    , 


M I  might  with  a  rifle,  and  when  I  judged  the  bird  to 
be  at  a  proper  distance,  palled  the  trigger,  feeling 
absolutely  cerUin  that  the  bird  would  fall  dead  at  my 
feet,  she  was  coming  at  such  speed ;  but  like  a  flash 
by  me  she  went  to  the  cover  beyond,  and  so  surprised 
and  astounded  was  I  that  it  never  occurred  to  me  to 
use  the  second  charge  on  herl 

Talk  about  the  heights  of  expectation  and  the 
depths  of  disappointment,  talk  about  the  dead  ce^ 
tainties  of  life  and  ttnd  yourself  clinging  only  to  the 
baseless  fabric  of  a  dream ! 

"That's  our  bird,  too,  I  suppose,"  said  Charley  when 
ho  appeared  all  too  soon  upon  the  scene. 

"  Yes,  our  bird  to  get  Charley,  do  you  suppose  I 
could  get  a  job  from  some  of  these  farmers  aoout  here 
to  pile  up  stones!" 

"Why.  what  do  you  mean?  Didn't  you  get  that 
bird?" 

"Get  that  bird!  No.  I  think  1  had  better  break 
my  gun  over  that  stone  wall  and  go  home." 

"Oh,  come,  now,  don't  get  rattled.  I  thought  yon 
were  feeling  a  little  too  ttue  when  we  started  in,  but 
the  day  is  before  us  and  we  will  do  something  yet. 
Shfc  was  coming  quicker  than  you  thought  and  you 
didn't  shoot  quick  enough.  You  let  her  get  too  near 
and  your  shot  went  by  her  like  a  bullet.  AYhere  did 
she  go J" 

"  Right  on  up  the  run." 

"She  is  proodbly  hid  up  in  the  scrub  pine  up  in 

that  alder  run.    You  get  right  up  to  the  chestnuts  by 

that  big  bouldei  and  I  will  soon  have  her  going  again  " 

I  had  not  long  to  wait  before  1  heard  Charley's 

"mark"  as  she  left  a  pine  tree-top  when  he  was  just 


A  ViRAOious  Nasbatiok. 


89S 


where  he  oonldn't  ihoot  Jnit  u  loon  at  the  broke 
cover  bangt  bang!  went  my  gun  and  on  went  the  bird 
by  me  np  the  mn. 

Rattled  ?  Please  don't  mention  it  I  began  to 
think  that  I  hadn't  loit  any  partridge,  and  it  wouldn't 
make  much  difference  if  I  didn't  capture  the  one  be- 
longing to  aomebody  elae. 

Charley  emerged  from  the  cover  before  she  was  lost 
to  view,  and  seeing  that  I  had  again  missed  her  clean, 
and  doubtless  appreciatiug  my  frame  of  mind,  only 
said: 

"I've  marked  jer  down  in  that  brier  patch  under  the 
sumach  up  there  and  we'll  get  her  now." 

We  soon  surrounded  her  and  Pete  was  ordered  in. 
She  Mas  running  and  soon  took  wing  at  a  long  dis- 
tance, when  both  sent  salutations  and  unheeded  orders 
to  halt. 

She  ceased  not  in  her  flight  until  after  reaching  the 
dense  pine  woods  boyond  the  old  road  to  Maiden, 
where  it  would  be  use!  ^l9  and  unwise  to  pursue  her. 

But  why  recount  thu  adventures  of  that  day  in  de- 
tail? We  hud  journeyed  some  miles  from  the  teauj 
and  we  agree<l  to  go  back  around  Maiden  Hill  in  the 
hope  that  fate  wouhl  be  more  propitious.  But  bird 
after  bird  Charley  sent  uncomplainingly  over  my  head 
to  the  right  and  to  the  left,  until  I  had  used  nineteen 
shells  and  only  had  one  bird  to  show  for  them,  and 
this  witliout  a  word  of  criticism  or  fault  finding  from 
him! 

We  reached  the  summit  of  the  hill  in  sig4.t  of  the 
farmhouse  a  little  after  mid-<lay,  when  Charley  said : 
'"You  stanu  out  there  in  the  opening  and  I  will  go 
down   this    narrow    strip   of  cover.     There's  usually 


'.    ill 


I         1 


896 


Uatrbbed  Waisxktb. 


gome  birds  down  at  the  lower  end,  where  mast  is 
plenty,  and  they  will  fly  right  over  this  open  spot  to 
the  big  woods.  If  yon  don't  kiU  any  of  them  I  think 
we  had  better  go  home. " 

I  was  not  in  a  talkative  mood  just  then  and  answer 
made  I  none.  Charley  worked  down  through  the 
almost  impenetrable  scrub  growth,  and  when  nearing 
the  lower  end  up  boiled  three  birds,  and  veering 
around  they  gave  him  no  shot,  but  from  my  point  of 
vantage  on  the  summit  I  could  see  all  as  they  swiftly 
scaled  the  scrub  tops  flying  directly  toward  me.  Two 
more  shells  were  wasted,  and  crest-fallen  and  disheart- 
ened I  started  for  the  bam.  Charley,  not  waiting  for 
my  tardy  steps,  was  seated  on  a  log  near  the  bam  in 
the  warm  sunlight  eating  his  lunch  on  my  arrival. 

Not  a  word  passed  between  us.  I  watered  and  fed 
the  horse  and  sat  down  and  ate  my  lunch.  Pete 
wagged  his  tail  in  recognition  for  the  morsel  thrown 
to  him,  but  to  me  it  seemed  clear  that  disdain  was  pic- 
tured upon  his  countenance.  Charley's  lunch  was  dis- 
posed of  long  before  I  finished  mine,  and  I  could  not 
but  observe  that  he  held  the  stem  of  his  meerschaum 
more  firmly  between  his  teeth  and  sent  forth  greater 
volumes  of  the  fragrant  smoke  than  usual. 

Luncheon  ended,  we  proceeded  to  hitch  up  the  team. 
As  Charley  was  tucking  the  blanket  around  Pete 
under  the  seat,  he  broke  the  silence  with  the  brief 
question : 

"Going  home  ?" 

•'I  don't  know  but  that  we  might  as  well,  but  I 
hate  to  give  it  up  so." 

"  Well,  perhaps  luck  might  turn.  Suppose  we  go  on 
to  the  old  red  house  cover.    It  gets  dark  early,  but  it's 


11  I 


^I"ll 


3' 


A  Vkbacious  Nabration.  397 

not^feP  over  there,  and  perhaps  we  might  do  Bom. 

We  are  driving  out  of  the  yard  now  and  the  horse's 

baJri  rS  ^"""  ^'  ^  Wg  chestnuts  by  the 
above.     If  I  start  any  birds  I  am  bound  to  kill  some 

you,  and  I  don  t  want  you  to  waste  any  more  ammuni- 
tion  either.  I  wiU  stay  here  on  this  knoU  untuTsel 
yon  in  your  position." 

ds?lLT^"''}^  go  carrying  my  gun  over  my  shoul- 
der hink.ng  of  nothing  but  getting  down  to  the  ba™. 
I  had  covered  about  half  the  distance  when  out  from 
under  a  scrub  pine  by  the  side  of  a  thorn  apple  Z 

Tof  whr  '''•^"'""  '1  --P-*-%  -d  the  tht! 
that  I  hi      P'""'"^/''. ''i-o'-certed  me,  that  I  forgot 

I  thought  I  heard  Charley  say  h-11,  but  of  this  I 
would  not  want  to  affirm  positively,  as  those  who 
know  h       be,t  would  hardly  believe  h';  co„W  coml' 

Whistle  with  their  wings  as  is  claimed  why  may  not 

srirrjeii:?'"^^^^^^"^^-^^--'-- 

The  time  was  too  precious  to  be  frittered  awav  in 
indulging  in  vain  regrets,  and  so  I  was  soon  in  the 
place  assigned  me  under  the  chestnuts.    Soon  I  heard 
Point!     mark!"     Bang,  bang-bang,  bang! 
Ihe  gunners  have  done  their  work,  but  it  is  Pete' 
hour  of  triumph.    Promptly  and   delicately  he  re 


I!  fl 


898 


Gathbrbd  Waiflrts. 


trieved  three  plump  birds,  two  of  which  fell  to  Char- 
ley's gun.  We  marked  down  the  balance  and  in  less 
than  ten  minutes  two  more  were  in  our  pockets — one  to 
each  gun.  We  turned  and  sought  the  covey  that  I 
blundered  upon,  and  had  no  diflSculty  in  locating 
them  in  a  nice  open  growth  of  chestnuts,  where  we 
could  work  together.  Pete  pointed  a  single  that  gave 
me  a  shot  on  the  right  when  ilushed.  I  made  a  nice 
clean  kill  and  added  the  sixth  bird  to  our  score.  A 
seventh  is  soon  flushed  that  made  straight  away,  but 
fell  to  the  report  of  two  guns  at  the  same  instant. 
The  day  was  fast  going  and  we  made  a  detour  toward 
our  team,  and  on  the  way  we  killed  another  bird 
apiece,  successfully  ending  a  day  with  the  biggest  hole 
in  it  that  it  has  ever  been  our  lot  to  spend  together. 
—Forest  and  Stream,  February  9,  1893. 


I  i 


BOOKS  IN  RUNNING  BROOKS. 


it' 


THE  balmy  zephyrs  of  spring  breathe  o'er  the  land 
and  bud  and  blossom  are  responsive.  The 
humming  bird  and  butterfly  disturb  the  trellis 
and  dislodge  the  dewey  gem  from  the  petal  of  the 
morning  glory,  its  mirrored  rainbows  dashed  to  earth 
and  lost  to  human  ken.  Destroyed  it  is  not,  but  un- 
heard and  unobserved  it  joins  its  fellows  and  leaves 
its  birth-place  on  the  summit  in  laughing  ripples  and 
winding  rivulets  and  sings  ever  onward,  onward  until 
lost  in  the  ocean  beyond. 


Books  ik  Rraxmo  Brooks.  399 

rays  of  ^„  „  -^  '*  Journeys,  it  flashes  back  the 
hs  Sid!  i   T"""^  "•"'•  ""^  *•'«  ««''°°i'>oy  tarries  by 

-int  give  it  tC  ^:tiT"T?"'*"^."°^^^^ 
the  copM  shrinks  from  T     .^-     J^/  timid  hare  in 

violets  are  hddenr.L  '^'"1'^  ^"™''""^  ""^'>o' 
thread  of  onr  id 'Uieirr^  '^T  "'''"'  *^«  «»^«' 
field  and  Criant tjot  "■""'^"  *"'''"«''  ^««»« 

anJ  kindlfra^  oMT  "'  ^"^^  "^«  ''»«'-<J« 
blossom  as  if  full"  -^T  t  "*;  "'  '°"''^«'  ''"''  ""^ 
enehanti nl^  seZf    T^"      """^  «PP"«'-tive  of  the 

ms  feathered  companions,  and  :he  undying  melody  of 

he  npphng  brook ;   his  system  thrills  with  e"  ultaLn 

as  he  contemplates  the  beauteous  scene  while  he  jour 

3  S?  h'"'"'  f ''"^  *"  *'■«  eontenL  ofhl 
creel,  «h.ch  to  him  is  the  minor  and  less  valued  part 

w•eJtlv:;r::Si^^''^^^  •'-«^- "'-««- th" 


'Tis  an  ideal 


lading 


'  eat  his  noonday  lunch. 


^J  brooding  oWit'irS^Sr^t 
i^ettmg  life's  joys  go  by." 


m 


400 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


i  i 


And  so  Piscator — to  him  each  varied  scene  in  the 
kaleidoscopic  panotsma  is  instinct  with  pleasure  and 
added  joy.  Crnmbs  from  his  lunch  are  shwed  with  a 
pair  of  robins  that  have  been  industriously  at  work 
putting  the  iinishing  touches  to  their  new  home  in  an 
adjoining  tree,  and  a  brown  thrush  flits  from  stem  to 
stem  in  the  bushy  undergrowth,  not  daring  to  venture 
into  the  presence  of  man.  He  is  fatigued  by  the  un- 
usual tramp,  and  with  crossed  legs  and  red  and  reel  by 
his  side  he  leans  back  against  the  tree  for  a  little  rest 
and  quiet  enjoyment,  but  the  mind  cannot  be  disci- 
plined like  the  body,  and  it  refuses  to  siijpend  its 
functions.  Without  mental  eflon,  he  sees  in  his  morn- 
ing's experience  an  epitome  of  life  itself — beginings 
the  most  humble  and  helpless,  children  multiplying 
and  adding  strength  to  the  family  name  and  household 
even  as  the  rivulets  to  the  brook ;  obstacles  and  hin- 
drances in  the  way  to  be  overcome  and  surmounted ; 
life's  pathway  now  turbulent  and  precipitous  and 
anon  without  agitation  or  ripple ;  now  with  bud  and 
blossom  to  cheer  and  please  and  again  encountering 
the  boulders  and  thorns  of  opposition  and  difiSculty ; 
now  in  sunshine  and  calm  and  again  with  darkening 
cloud  and  forked  lightning  as  if  to  cast  down,  crush 
and  anniiiilate  ;  now  moving  along  in  quietness  and 
alone,  even  as  Piscator  himself;  now  prolific  and  use- 
ful and  now  seeming  barren  and  useless ;  now  turning 
the  wheels  of  industry  amid  the  noise,  grime  and  tur- 
moil in  centres  of  population,  and  anon  bearing  the 
burdens  of  commerce  out  to  and  losing  itself  in  the 
boundless  ocean,  even  as  does  restless  and  resistless 
time  transport  the  human  family  out  upon  the  meas- 
ureless ocean  of  eternity. 


TOKGDBS    IK   TbKSS.  4Q1 


lit 


r 


TONGUES  IN  TREES. 


THE  trout  hog  arid  pot-hunter  may  And  enjoyment 

S"  t     ^f  ".««*-««-  camed^ev?„  t 
thi,   .1  5  «-^t«™ination,  and  too  many  of 

th.s  class  are  oflfendvely  conspicuous  in  wroLw 
named  Sportsmen's  clubs,  whose  professed  oZct  is 
o  protect  and  develop  fish  and  game.  These,  togeth 
r„  t  ^T"'"''^  '^^'^  ••««'-'"t-l  largely  from  the 
ranks  of  those  engaged  in  the  sale  of  fishing  tTckle 
ammumt^on  and  other  agents  of  destructio  Ld "S ' 
(lelight   to   masquerade   in   the   garb   of   snZ 

rb?an7:r  ''%Tr'r^  o7\:\7::z2 

T  1  /  *  '''"^*  ''"P^^t^f'  streams  and  emntv 
Zd  and  a  niggardliness  that  attempts  noth  ng'  n 
the  direction  of  re-stocking  either. 


402 


Gathered  Waitlets. 


'I,  I- 


I"  ■ 


The  best  element  in  the  guild  of  gportaman  has 
long  since  learned  that  the  greatest  benefit  and  pleas- 
ure of  an  outing  are  not  to  be  measured  by  the  destruc- 
tion wrought,  nor  the  profit  estimated  by  the  dollars 
and  cents  which  the  contents  of  creel  or  bag  might 
bring  if  sold  in  the  market. 

No !  Despising  tbese,  which  at  best  are  but  inci- 
dents in  a  broader  and  higher  view,  the  greater  pleas- 
ure and  benefit  that  come  to  him  who  goes  afield  with 
eyes  and  ears  open,  and  whose  heart  is  not  withered 
by  avarice,  count  for  more  than  mere  wanton  slaughter. 
lie  whose  being  is  so  attuned, 

"finds  tongues  in  trees." 

He  realizes  that  the  world  is  but  a  vast  school  house 
and  all  are  pupils.  In  the  every-day  walks  of  life  he 
encounters  some  bom  with  the  grin  of  Momus,  who 
can  see  only  the  ludicrous ;  some  with  a  bent  for  the 
serious,  who  never  smile;  some  who,  surmounting 
every  obstacle,  ascend  to  the  summit  at  a  single  bound, 
and  others  who  never  become  more  than  drudges  or 
drones  by  the  wayside. 

He  considers  how  much  he  has  to  be  thankful  for  to 
whom  it  is  given  to  be  any  of  these  as  occasion  de- 
mands, and  how  deserving  of  commiseration  and  sym- 
pathy is  he  who  can  appear  in  but  a  single  role. 

To  the  thoughtful  and  observing  the  book  of  nature 
is  ever  interesting  and  instructive,  its  varied  leaves 
stored  with  amplitud,  to  hold  enraptured  the  greatest 
intellect,  while  not  repelling  the  most  callow  youth. 
All  stations  and  conditions  bring  tribute  to  her  shrine 
and  learn  frfim  her  lessons  as  diveree  as  are  her  de- 
votees.   IMauy  an  interesting  parallel  to  the  every-day 


TOKOCBS   IN   Trbbs.  ^jjg 

root«  Btnk,ng  «ore  deeply  and  holding  more  fllw 

Were  he  hnds  a  brotherhood  of  trees  in  oU.J 

Zrtn~2'  "fr  "^  ''-"-  "  o-l.eh2  e- 
th^  other    t         ''^*'""'   ^"'  °-*  """--oaching   upon 
the  other,  the  soughing  of  the  wind  in  their  branches 
yp.fymg  the  orisons  of  their  human  companions  an, 
their  balsamic  fragrance  permeating  all  and  wlf? 

onTigh  "  ''-'''"hood  to  the  great  white  throne 

snrtr'^-''"  'T,  ^""''  ^'''"*  *™«^  t»^«ring  above  all 
surroundings,  hke  the  noted  ones  of  the  world  and 

theTs^'T":""'  '"*  '^"■^^^  -*'■  «bunZce  1  kf 

i:aT;ootd:edr'"''^^^ "'  --'''-  *"«  -'^-^^ 

Pe^S-^iarellS:!-—--^ 


il 


404 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


f 


and  they  remind  him  only  of  the  vagabond  contingent 
and  enemies  of  their  kind ;  others  stately  and  fair  to 
look  upon  that  are  rotten  within ;  trees  of  great  height 
and  vast  proportions  that  challenge  his  attention  and 
command  the  tribute  of  his  admiration,  that  are 
snapped  asunder  by  the  whirlwind  and  thrown  to 
earth,  pulling  down  and  crushing  everything  in  their 
course  like  many  a  proud  man  who  started  out  upon 
the  journey  of  life  in  conscious  strength  and  buoyant 
with  the  hope  of  great  achievement,  who  attained  to 
high  and  envied  station,  but  who  in  a  moment  of 
weakness  encountered  the  gale  of  temptation  and  fell 
with  an  appalling  crash  that  shooij  the  pillars  of  soci- 
ety and  brought  ruin  and  disgrace  in  his  path. 

Again,  he  is  surrounded  by  others  that  seem  fitting 
companions  to  the  dilettanti  whose  every  thought  is 
of  the  present  and  who  always  promise  themselves  a 
golden  to-morrow,  but  w  .  are  swept  into  oblivion  by 
the  winds  of  adversity,  leaving  i,  'lind  not  even 
charred  embers  as  a  remembrance,  as  does  the  consum- 
ing forest  fire.  The  towering  oak  and  olinging  vine, 
type  of  conjugal  love  and  highest  eartjlj'  affection, 
escape  not  his  attention  nor  the  lesso'js  they  teach  of 
bearing  one  another's  burdens. 

Some  he  sees  are  like  other  members  of  the  human 
family  who  have  a  grand  destiny,  while  others  of  as 
great  intrinsic  value  live  and  die  unknown ;  some  are 
great  in  a  worldly  sense,  while  living  by  their  associ- 
ation with  events  of  importance,  and  others,  like  the 
good  ones  of  the  world,  are  best  known  and  appreci- 
ated when  beyond  its  praise. 

Putting  forth  bud  and  blossom  they  well  typify 
youth  and  give  promise  of  a  great  future;   clothed 


P.C...U  Fb„,«  t„oo™  „,  fc^       ,„j 


PICKEREL  FISHING  THROU(iH  THE  ICE. 

THE  eye  do„-  discerns  no  difference  between  the 
rrnds   of  the   rippling   brook  and  its  slack 

bank  atThrK""',  T"'"''  ''"^'"  "^  *''«  overhanging 
bank  at  the  bend,  where  in  the  sunshine  of  summer 
he  beautiful  trout  lo.e  to  tarry.     Boreas  has  escaped 

■n  h,s  ,cy  embrace-while  wrapping  the  earth  in  the 


J    li 


1 

'    J 

t 

d 

1 .' 

1 

,   j     i 

■" 

:?  ■ 

406 


Gathibed  Waifhts. 


ample  foldi  of  his  »nowy  mantle.  Haman  enactmenta 
are  now  in  harmony  with  Nature's  laws,  and  the 
sportsman  erstwhile  mast  forego  the  pleasnres  of  rod 
and  gun  and  content  himself  with  reminiscence  and 
indifferent  substitutes.  The  lowing  kine  may  not  add 
beauty  to  the  landscape,  the  leafy  copse  may  not  give 
back  the  varied  notes  of  its  feathered  songsters,  nor 
the  fern  yield  its  fragrance  to  the  trampling  foot; 
and  yet  the  gentle  savage  within  him  may  not  be 
wholly  repressed  although  the  highest  canons  of 
sportsmanship  be  offended  in  its  gratification.  The 
choice  five  ounce  split-bamboo  must  be  laid  away,  and 
the  delicate  fly  of  many  and  gaudy  hues  be  relegated 
to  the  fly-book,  for  to-day  we  must  be  content  with  the 
inelegant  tilt  and  lively  minnow. 

The  wind  has  veered  around  to  the  south  and  the 
day  grows  sunny  and  warm  with  the  passing  morning 
hours.  A  trio  gather  about  the  fire— and  soon  a  fel- 
low feeling  and  longing  for  old-time  adventures  and 
pleasures  prompt  an  adjournment  to  a  neighboring 
pond  some  few  miles  away.  As  mid-day  approaches 
these  congenial  friends  and  the  writer,  well  tucked  np  in 
fur  robes,  with  four  dozen  tilts  and  a  generous  supply  of 
all  other  things  needful,  sally  forth  behind  the  merry 
music  of  the  jingling  bells  for  an  encounter  with  the 
pickerel  in  their  native  haunts. 

It  may  be  well  to  e.xplain  that  there  was  some  dif- 
ference of  opinion  at  the  outset  as  to  where  Messrs. 
Eso-x  were  most  "at  home."  but  the  junior  member  of 
the  party  parts  his  hair  in  the  middle,  and,  not  yet 
having  encountered  many  of  the  adverse  storms  of 
life,  his  face  is  generally  decorated  with  a  ten-gauge 
smile,  which  he  ia  in  no  hurry  to  part  with  by  apply- 


PiOKKR«i,  FiBHiwo  Thkodoh  TH«  Io%  407 
ing  himwlf  to  the  wriou.  consideration  of  the  difflcalt 
Rnh  of  the  Scripture.,  "whither  thou  goe.t  I  wiU 
Tle~oti;  "  V'"'^  ■  '"»"'  '-  »'•«  contentro" 
stature  and  carrying  only  .  light  load  of  years,  ha. 

bloodthirstyNew  Jersey  mosquito  in  his  native  haunt. 
He  never  failed  to  recognize  the  superior  qualification, 
of  the  patriarch  of  the  party,  and  to  accori  thr«s2 

wilds  of  Maine  he  became  the  victim  of  misplaced 

confldence  and  found  he  had  only  a  baby  pathflS 

n  the  person  of  the  patriarch  for  a  guide  when  he 

ost  a  blazed  trail  and  floundered  about  f;,  a  long 

me  ,n  an  almost  impenetrable  windfaU  jungle,     h! 

now  disposed  to  be  more  exacting  and  critLl,  and 

>t  was  not  without  the  use  of  many  of  the  nice  oe^ 

r  pkns^°ft "'  *'^-  ''f  •""''^  *""'•■«  ---" 't" 
ine  plans  of  the  patriarch. 

n,  t"^?^v^  r'  destination  we  found  the  ice  of  only 
moderate  thicknes,,  and  we  had  our  first  tilt  set  as 
th  Steam  whistles  of  the  city  were  sounding  for  one 
o  clock  We  succeeded  in  getting  but  a  few  tilts  set 
i?ea"rn!7T  "'  '\''''  '''  -""^  *''«  ««'«  S^^  began 
announced  the  usual  result-that  the  big  fish  had  de- 
ZTe  ""'"  f^'-   "'"  '°  *"™  B«-endeS lo  a 

uofn  tl,r'"l  "f  ""*  ^'''  '^'«"*1«««-  We  hurried 
befl  weTl  K  .r"'°^  ^''^  '"*^'  •'"*  •'"•J  to  desist 
SaLTuriot"''"  ""  "'""'^^  ^"-     ^»"-  -  ^^' 


408 


OaTHKRBD   WAIFLBTg. 


We  ate  our  lunch  while  travellini;  from  tilt  to  tilt, 
keenly  enjoying  the  beautiful  calm,  gunny  winter'g 
day,  its  stillneu  broken  only  by  the  jollity  of  the  flsh- 
ermen,  the  click  of  the  teU-tale  tilt,  an<l  the  sharp  re 
port  of  the  distant  woodsman's  axe.  "We  were  out  for 
a  good  time,  and  a  gooil  time  we  have,  every  condition 
being  favorable.  Our  pile  of  flgh  grew  rapidly,  and 
their  black,  gold  and  green  blended  in  harmony  and 
made  a  pretty  picture  on  the  ice.  We  did  not  want 
all  the  flsh  in  tlie  pond,  and  we  pulled  up  at  4  o'clock 
and  returned  to  the  city  with  an  elegant  string  of 
forty-four  pickerel  that  weighed  nearly  double  as 
many  poundH.— ^ore»<  and  Stream. 


I  ^      ■  ' 


JACKING  DEER. 


A    REMINISCENCE   OF    A    NIGHT   IN   TIIK    WOODS. 

JACK  ~  OYLE  and  (Jeorge  Chipman,  George  Chip- 
man  and  Jack  Boyle!  Juii  the  best  of  names 
for  guides,  and  just  the  best  of  guides  who  bore 
them — men  skilled  in  woodcraft,  and  who  can  cast  a 
fly,  handle  a  canoe,  pitch  a  tent,  make  a  bough  bed 
and  prepare  a  tempting  menu  with  the  best 
^  Our  party,  consisting  of  Mr.  Otis  Le  Roy,  of  New 
York  city,  and  Harry  S.  Seeley  and  the  writer,  from 
the  Heart  of  the  Commonwealth,  had  spent  a  lengthy 
vacation  with  them  during  the  Fall  of  1889  in  the 


III.-'   I 


11,]  1 


8 


Jaokino  Deer.  409 

wilds  of  Maine,  enjoying  the  exeeUent  fly-fishing  of 
■J^  wat«rs,  and  drinking  in  the  luxury  and  exhilara- 
tion of  •  je  bracing  mountain  air,  perfume  laden  and 
woods' ,  and  gazing  out  upon  such  scenery,  now  decked 
uui  ii,  aU  the  gorgeous  colorings  of  early  Autumn,  as 
pen  of  Ruskin  or  Thoreau,  or  pencil  of  Rembrandt 
never  depicted!  We  had  made  the  circuit  of  the 
Chain  of  Ponds  in  the  Dead  River  region  of  Maine, 
over  Snow  Mountain  to  the  Seven  Ponds,  then  by 
Massachusetts  Bog  and  Arnold  Pond  to  Crosby 
Pond,  where  we  spent  our  last  night  in  camp  to- 
gether. 

The  trout  season  had  ended  and  now  our  rods,  that 
had  done  us  good  service,  were  dismounted  and  laid 
aside.  The  evening  was  spent  in  formulating  and  dis- 
cussing plans  for  the  morrow,  when  it  was  decided 
that  in  the  morning  we  should  push  on  over  the  Boun- 
dary Mountains  to  the  club  house  on  Spider  Lake  in 
Canada,  and  that  Jack  and  the  writer  must  do  the 
honors  for  the  party  in  the  matter  of  big  game. 

Morning  dawned  all  too  soon,  and  lowering  clouds 
gave  us  some  uneasiness.  A  hasty  breakfast  and  the 
trail  was  taken  for  Hathan  Bog,  up  which  our  entire 
party  with  their  duffle  were  paddled  eight  miles  in 
one  frail  canoe ;  reaching  the  upper  end  of  which  we 
were  soon  again  on  the  trail  toward  the  summit  of  the 
Boundary  Mountains,  the  water-shed  of  which  deter- 
mines the  boundary  of  Maine  and  Canada,  in  accord- 
ance with  the  Ashburton  treaty  of  1842— all  water 
running  northeriy  in  this  part  of  the  country  is  in 
Canada,  and  that  running  southerly  is  in  Maine.  We 
had  not  covered  more  than  one-half  the  distance  be- 
fore a  cold,  dri7.zling  rain  compelled  us  to  seek  shelter 


'■>    it 


410 


Gathbbbd  Waiflets. 


i 


in  a  friendly  lean-to  for  some  time.  This,  with  the 
increased  difficulty  of  walking,  made  our  arrival  at  the 
club  house  several  hours  lat«r  than  we  Lad  planned,  and 
on  arrival  we  found  that  another  party  with  a  noted 
guide  had  already  gone  up  Spider  River  for  deer 
where  we  had  planned  to  go. 

Jack  looked  crestfallen  on  learning  this,  and  being 
asked  what  was  to  be  done,  or  if  there  was  no  other 
place  that  we  could  go  to  with  a  fair  prospect  of  get- 
ting a  buck : 

"Well— yes,"  he  slowly  began,  "but  it  is  a  good  many 
miles  from  here,  and  no  good  way  to  get  to  it.    But—" 
"But  what.  Jack?" 

"Well,  I  was  going  to  say,  if  I  was  going  alone  I 
would  go  there  now,  but  it  is  some  ten  or  twelve 
miles,  and  most  of  it  would  have  to  be  done  on  foot" 
"Well,  Jack,"  said  I,  a  trifle  nettled  at  the  insinua- 
tion contained  in  his  reply,  "haven't  I  been  with  you 
a  couple  of  weeks,  and  haven't  I  kept  my  end  up  with- 
out grumbling  or  fault-flnding  P 

"WeU— yes,"  again  slowly  began  Jack ;  "but  it  is  a 
long  way,  and  it  is  so  cold,  and  looks  like  more  rain, 
and  if  we  are  going  to  go  up  there  we  ought  to  be 
there  now  so  as  to  throw  up  some  kind  of  a  shelter 
for  the  night  as  there  is  no  camp  there.  And  then  if 
we  go  there  and  don't  get  any  deer— but  there's  deer 
there." 

"Well,  Jack,"  said  I,  "that  is  enough.  We  go.  You 
know  me  long  enough  to  know  that  I  don't  kick.  If 
we  get  anything,  weU  and  good ;  if  we  don't,  we  will 
at  least  have  done  all  we  could.  So  hurry  up  and  let 
us  be  oflf." 

A  few  moments  later  and  a  boat  shot  out  from  the 


Jacking  Debe.  411 

wharf  on  Spider  lake  for  a  fouMnile  pull  The 
autumn  wind  sang  its  mournful  dirge  through  the 
tree-topg  and  the  lowering  clouds  were  mirrored  like 
isles  of  fairy  beauty  in  the  depths  of  the  lake.  Again 
they  would  seem  as  lofty  peak  and  mountain  range' 
making  caverns  and  grottos  as  fitting  abodes  for  un- 
canny gnomes  and  elfln  sprites. 

Jack's  strong  pull  soon  landed  us  alongside  an  old 
head-works,  and  making  our  boat  secure,  we  were  off 
on  our  long  march.  Our  wind  and  muscles  were  taxed 
to  the  utmost  and  few  were  the  words  we  uttered 
The  last  mile  or  so  was  through  a  dense  woods  and 
the  shades  of  evening  settling  down  made  the  travel- 
ing very  difficult,  with  many  a  trip,  slip  and  stumble 
But  haste  on  we  must,  and  haste  on  we  did,  thoroughly 
warmed  up  and  sweating  with  the  exertion.  Going 
down  a  slight  declivity  Jack  informed  me  that  we 
were  neanng  our  destination,  and,  making  our  way 
with  the  utmost  difficulty  through  some  two  hundred 
yards  of  brush,  mire  and  bog,  we  emerged  on  the  bor- 
ders  of  a  lake,  now  looking  like  a  huge  mirror  in  the 
darkening  gloom. 

Jack  soon  found  his  old  dugout  and  we  paddled 
across  the  neck  of  the  lake  to  a  little  higher  land 
Pushing  back  fifty  yards  from  the  shore  we  came  to  a 
boulder  upon  which  we  were  glad  to  drop  our  weary 
bodies,  and,  oh !  was  eider  down  ever  so  restful? 

No  fire  must  be  made— not  a  word  uttered.  There 
in  the  solitude  of  the  darkening  night,  buried  in  the 
depth  of  the  forest,  miles  away  from  human  habita- 
tion, a  cold,  drizzly  rain  beating  down,  without  other 
shelter  than  the  tree-tops,  devoid  indeed  must  he  be 
of  aU  sentiment  who  does  not  think  thoughts  and  ex- 


m 


412 


(lATHEBED   WaIFLETS. 


hi  M 


perienee  feelings  such  as  can  come  to  man  nowhere 
else,  and  who  does  not  realize  more  forcibly  than  ever 
before  what  the  companionship  of  man  means,  and  the 
whisperings  that  come  to  him  from  the  God  of  soli- 
tude! 

Time  soon  wore  away  and  Jack  whispered  that  we 
had  better  start  out.  I  told  him  to  go  down  to  the 
canoe  and  rig  up  the  jack,  and  I  would  be  down  in  a 
few  minutes.  I  was  so  overcome  with  fatigue  that  I 
dropped  off  to  sleep,  and  the  ne.Yt  I  knew  Jack  was 
shaking  me  and  saying  that  everything  was  ready.  If 
I  ever  wanted  to  do  a  thing  chat  I  didn't  do,  it  was  to 
sit  riglit  tlifire  and  let  the  deer  disport  themselves  un- 
molested. I  was  about  to  tell  Jack  to  go  out  and  do 
what  he  could  alone,  and  I  would  9t)iy  wliere  I  was,  but, 
arousing  myself  with  the  thought  tliat  I  had  come 
hundreds  of  miles  for  just  such  an  opportunity,  and 
that  I  liad  tliis  day  undergone  such  toil  and  inconven- 
ience, and  now  at  the  eleventli  'lour  I  would  not  give 
it  up! 

And  80  with  an  effort  I  gathered  myself  up  and 
soon  I  was  sitting  behind  the  jack  in  the  bow  of  the 
canoe.  Sensations  unprecedented  and  nowhere  else  to 
be  found !  The  canoe  glided  over  the  water  like  a 
sentient  thing,  not  a  tremor  felt  from  its  propulsion, 
not  a  swish  or  ripple  from  the  paddle,  and,  but  for  see- 
ing against  the  horizon  tree-top  and  mountain  passing, 
no  realization  of  motion  or  advance;  on  all  sides  the 
stillness  of  the  death  chamber  or  tomb,  when,  lo !  two 
Jiving,  burning  diamonds  there  in  the  darkness  !  Are 
they  twenty,  tifty  or  two  hundred  yards  away  3  The 
jack  light  is  put  dead  on  and  the  canoe  makes  noise- 
less advance.     Lightning  flashes  forth  from  out  the 


Jacking  Deer.  413 

rifle  npon  the  darknesa  of  the  night  and  the  thunder 
18  echoed  and  re-echoed  with  startling  reverberation 
from  mountain  top  to  mountain  top. 

"  That  is  our  meat !  WeU  done,  sir,  weU  done!  A 
capital  shot." 

"And  how  do  you  know  it  is  our  meat.  Jack  ?" 
'Because  you  would  hear  him  crashing  through  the 
brush  if  yju  missed  or  only  wounded  him,  sir." 

Landing  was  made,  and  not  fifty  yards  away,  on  the 
grassy  bog,  lay  my  first  buck  breathing  his  last.  He 
weighed  two  hundre<i  and  forty  pounds,  and  carried  a 
beautiful  set  of  antlers  with  five  prongs  on  each. 
With  considerable  toil  we  landed  him  at  the  place  of 
our  departure,  all  fatigue  and  sleepiness  having  de- 
parted.    "Now,  Jack,  for  a  fire  and  a  snack." 

"All  right  if  you  say  so,  sir,  but  I  think  in  the 
course  of  an  hour  we  could  get  another  one,  and  I 
would  like  to  beat  that  Spider  River  party!" 

"I  am  agreeable.  Jack,"  said  I,  admiring  his  gami- 
ness,  as  down  we  sat  in  the  darkness. 

In  about  three-quarters  of  an  hour  he  whispered  that 
he  could  not  stand  it  much  longer,  and  as  we  were 
wet  with  perspiration  and  the  night  was  getting  de- 
cidedly cold,  I  was  very  glad  of  the  opportunity  to 
say  that  I  did  not  care  if  we  did  not  go  out  again. 
But  Jack's  pride  was  up  and  he  wanted,  if  possible, 
to  beat  hit  rival  guide.  So  out  we  sallied,  and  going 
not  m^re  than  two  hundred  yards  beyond  the  scene 
of  our  first  adventure  I  dropped  the  second  buck  in  his 
tracks.  He  weighed  a  little  over  two  hundred  pounds. 
'There,  Jack,  that  is  beyond  my  expectations,  and 
hfty  dollars  would  not  tempt  me  to  kiU  another  buck 
to-night." 


'    )| 


414 


Oathbrbo  Waiflbtb. 


White  birch  was  Roon  cnt,  a  dash  of  keroger<)  oil 
from  our  lantern  thrown  over  it,  and  soon  a  roaring 
camp  Are  was  throwing  out  its  warmth  and  lending  an 
added  charm  to  the  scene.  Hardtack,  cheese  and  hot 
coffee  regaled  and  refreshed  the  inner  man.  A  hastly 
constructed  lean  to  and  bough  bed  soon  materialized, 
upon  which  two  fatigued,  contented  hunters  soundly 
slept  the  night  away. 

The  bucks  were  landed  at  the  clubhouse  next  day 
and  duly  photographed,  as  shown  in  the  accompany- 
ing illustration.  It  is  but  justice  to  Jack  to  say  that 
his  rival  came  in  empty-handed. — The  Amateur  Sports- 
man, April,  1891. 


A  DAY  IN  THE  OLD  DOMINION. 


DO  you  know  Dol  Eley  ?     Yes,  Adolphus  S..  but 
that  is  too  long  and  formal,  and  you  know 
his  intimate  friends  call  him  Dol  for  short. 
You  do !     Well,  my  friend,  let  me  congratulate  you 
that  you   number  one   of   nature's   noblemen  and  a 
princely  host  in  your  list  of  acquaintances. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  make  his  acquaintance 
some  years  back,  when  he  presided  over  an  extensive 
mercantile  business,  the  golden  letters  of  whose  sign 
over  the  door  of  his  establishment  but  faintly  typi- 
fied the  character  of  him  within.  Emolument,  as  it 
should,  rewarded  his  endeavor,  and  now  in  the  prime 


A  Day  in  the  Old  Dominion.  41,-1 

of  life,  with  his  devoted  wife,  the  day  ig  not  long 
enough  to  do  good  and  to  diffnse  sunshine  and  happi- 
ness on  every  hand. 

Like  some  of  the  world's  wisast  end  best,  he  finds 
health,  strength  and  recreation  in  an  occasional  outing 
with  dog  and  gun,  and  although  it  is  but  in  recent 
years  that  he  donned  the  wedding  garment  of  sports- 
manship, a  well-filled  bagfre(iuently  attests  his  profic- 
iency. Not  long  since  it  was  the  writer's  good  fortune 
to  spend  a  day  with  him  and  a  couple  of  friends  in  pur- 
suit of  Orlyx  Virginianus,  the  partridge  of  the  Old 
Dominion,  but  which  is  the  well  known  quail  or  Bob 
White  of  the  more  northern  states.  Loaded  into  a 
couple  of  vehicles  the  party,  including  a  couple  of 
"plantation  coons"  and  several  doss.left  the  town  for 
a  six  or  eiglit-mile  drive,  going  out  by  the  waterworks 
and  Lake  Kilby  on  toward  Bethlehem.  Arriving  at 
an  old  plantation  a  fallow  cornfield  that  had  grown 
up  to  rag  weed  attracted  our  attention  and  it  was  de- 
cided to  investigate. 

The  dogs  were  cast  ofl  and  scampered  away  like  so 
many  wild  colts  and  we  simply  interested  spectators, 
sitting  in  our  carriage  on  the  roadside.  The  rapidity 
of  pace  and  wide  ranging  of  the  dogs  is  a  revelation 
to  Northern  gunners.  Running  as  rapidly  as  a  hound 
might  after  a  hare,  they  covered  the  field  quickly  and 
thoroughly,  and  when  near  the  lowest  corner  near  a 
slough,  old  Don  suddenly  wheeled  to  the  right  and 
became  as  rigid  as  a  statue,  the  other  dogs  promptly 
backing,  some  of  them  nearly  one  hundred  yards  away. 
"Hie  OP  there!  Get  up  on  to  them!  Hie  on!"— 
and  slowly  creeping  along  he  advanced  some  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  yards  and  is  again  immovable. 


.    1  II 


r  Ti 


416 


Gathkred  Waiflets. 


n  1 


"Get  out  of  that !  hie  on  there ! — on  there,  I  gay !" — 
creeping  stealthily  along  a  few  yards  further  no  com- 
mand availed  to  budge  him  another  incl 

"  Heed !  heed  I  steady  there !  hold,  now !"  "What  a 
picture ! 

"Now,  gentlemen,  we  will  go  down  and  give  an  ac- 
count of  ourselves." 

Advancing  to  within  a  few  feet  of  the  dogs  we  saw 
a  tine  bevy  huddled  together  right  under  his  nose. 
Flushing  them,  three  double  guns  sent  six  charges  of 
shot  after  them,  but  we  failed  to  gather  six  birds! 
AVe  took  a  charitable  view  of  the  situation  and  eon- 
soled  ourselves  with  the  probability  that  some  of  the 
dead  birds  must  have  received  double  charges. 

We  did  not  follow  them  into  the  dense  green-brier 
growth,  but  turned  our  steps  to  other  flehls  where  we 
found  plenty  to  admire,  test  and  reward  our  skill. 

The  forenoon  quickly  wore  away,  and  witli  whetted 
appetites  we  worked  the  fields  out  by  the  Bethlehem 
church  a  few  miles  to  a  favorite  pine  grove  to  spend 
the  noonday  hour.  The  "coons"  were  sent  along  in 
advance  to  build  fire  and  make  preliminary  prepara- 
tions, the  day  being  stiU  and  cloudless  and  the  mid- 
winter air  being  as  soft  and  balmy  as  early  autumn  in 
our  Northern  home.  Reaching  our  trysting  place  a 
hamper  of  generous  proportions  was  produced,  together 
with  a  sack  of  McAnge's  No.  1  select  oysters  from  his 
extensive  oyster  beds.  The  "coons"  soon  had  them 
popping  open  upon  their  bed  of  coals,  and  with  a 
pinch  of  salt  and  pepper  and  a  squeeze  of  lemon 
juice  was  ever  toothsome  morsel  more  appetising  and 
palatable  ? 

Disposing  of  what  would  under  other  circumstances 


•l ;! 


A  Dav  in  thk  Old  Dominion.  417 

have  been  an  ample  meal,  we  tnrned  our  attention  to  the 
more  gubgtantial  elements  of  our  repast.  There, 
spread  in  generous  quantity  upon  snowy  linen  on  a 
carpet  of  pine  needles  and  cones,  were  broiled  quail 
of  the  morning's  shooting,  roast  turkey,  8lice<l  Smith- 
field  ham,  cold  tongue,  bread,  and  such  biscuit  as  I 
never  saw  elsewhere  as  made  under  Mrs.  Eley's  roof, 
together  with  hot  coffee,  jelly,  sweet  pickle  and  all  the 
et  ceteras  that  cultivated  taste  could  suggest  and  ample 
means  provide.  Tlie  dinner  hour  was  not  limited  to 
si.xty  minutes,  and  many  was  the  brilliant  sally  and 
skillful  parry,  the  genial  give  an<l  take  so  characteris- 
tic of  gentlemen  who  go  a-tield. 

As  a  fitting  accompaniment  to  the  feast  wine  glasses 
of  cut  glass  v.-ere  handed  around  and,  filled  to  over- 
flowing, the  health,  happiness  and  years  of  our  host 
and  his  helpmate  at  home  were  quaffed  in  libations  of 
choicest  Scuppernong.  We  added  to  our  score  of 
birds  and  bunnys  during  the  afternoon,  and  when  we 
returned  to  town  in  the  early  twilight  strapped  to  the 
rear  end  of  our  wagon  in  true  Virginia  fashion  dangled 
the  goodly  result  of  our  day's  outing. 

In  our  calendar  we  number  many  a  day  in  the  field 
and  by  the  stream,  but  this  stands  out  bold  and  con- 
spicuous as  the  one  deserving  to  be  known  as  the  red 
letter  day  of  them  all.  Should  it  ever  be  my  good 
fortune  to  score  another  such  experience  I  believe  it 
will  be  in  the  sunny  South  and  Dol  Eley  will  not  be 
far  away.— The  Amateur  Sportsman,  August,  1891. 


ONLY  A  DOG. 


I  ] 


AND  Fido  is  dead  I     Good  Fido ! 
lie  was  only  a  dog  in  the  humbler  walks  of 
life  it  is  true,  and  could  boast  of  no  patrician 
lineage  or  bench  show  conquests — a  dog  that  lived  his 
day  and  is  not — and  why  should  he  occasion  further 
thought  or  regret  ( 

Ah!  there  are  dogs  and  dogs,  some  of  the  most 
worthless  of  whom  pass  a  pampered  existence  in  the 
homes  of  luxury  and  who  when  dead  are  accorded 
marble  mausoleums;  some  that  never  deserved  the 
friendship  of  man  and  who  cannot  be  too  soon  forgot 
ten;  and  others  whose  intelligence  so  approximates 
the  human  that  it  would  seem  as  if  it  must  have 
crossed  the  border  line  of  instinct  and  entered  the 
domain  of  reason,  who  so  endear  themselves  by  ready 
adaptation  to  an  earnest  endeavor  in  their  master's 
service  that  we  part  with  them  with  keen  regret  and 
accord  them  a  prominent  and  honorable  place  in  onr 
memory. 

Fido,  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  first  saw  light  on 
the  sea  coast  of  Old  Virginia,  and  his  main  ancestral 
line  was  clearly  that  of  the  Irish  setter,  although  a 
cross  was  apparent  that  resembled  the  Chesapeake  Bay 
dog. 

He  came  into  the  possession  of  Captain  Andrews, 
of  Little  Island,  when  quite  young,  and  he  never 
parted   ownership  with   him.     He   was   intelligent. 


i  .11 


OlfLT   A    Doo. 


41» 


affectionate,  cool  and  level-headed  beyond  that  of 
any  dog  it  has  ever  been  the  writer'*  lot  to  know,  and 
he  would  be  glad  to  learn  of,  and  would  go  miles  to 
■ee  another  such,  if  one  exists,  that  would  compass 
such  a  range  of  usefulness  to  the  sportsman  and  per- 
form  his  part  as  well. 

Without  attempting  to  enumerate  all  of  his  good 
qualities,  let  me  indicate  their  variety,  range  and 
trend,  by  relating  the  varied  experiences  of  a  single 
day's  outing  with  him  in  Southern  game  regions. 

It  was  decided  before  retiring  the  night  before  that 
the  writer,  with  McChesney  as  boatman  and  server, 
should  attempt  to  outwit  the  canvasbaoks  in  the  morn- 
ing. 

Leaving  Captain  Andrew's  snuggery  on  Little  Island 
before  daybreak  for  SheU  Point  some  miles  distant, 
Fido  was  exultant  and  ran  before  us  unbidden  to  the 
landing  and  was  down  charged  on  top  of  the  decoys  in 
the  bow  of  the  Spray  before  we  reached  the  shore. 
AVe  encountered  adverse  winds  and  were  compelled  to 
tack  so  ofteu  that  our  progress  was  very  slow,  and  gray 
streaks  and  faint  rosy  tints  betokening  dawn  were  per- 
ceptible in  the  East  before  we  reached  our  destina- 
tion. 

Fido's  head  was  constantly  describing  a  tangent, 
and  his  keen  and  watchful  eyes  were  ever  on  the  alert 
at  his  self-imposed  task  of  lookout.  He  no  sooner 
discovered  a  bunch  of  fowl  in  the  distance  than  he 
gave  three  notes  of  warning— im,  im,  im,  in  quick 
succession— and  down  crouching,  not  another  sound 
or  movement  from  him  until  they  were  out  of  sight. 
This  he  many  times  repeated  before  we  landed  at  our 
blind,  when  he  promptly  took  his  place  in  the  sedge 


!i 


4S0 


(tATIIERKD    WaIFLKTK. 


*  ; 


grass  iin<l  cano  broke  ami  did  duty  as  before,  When 
the  giin  was  flred,  if  no  duck  fell  into  the  water  he  did 
not  leave  his  place,  but  the  instant  one  struck  the 
water  Le  was  in,  and  if  only  wounded,  he  would  set  up 
a  yip,  yip,  yip,  and  after  him  with  such  rapidity  that 
tlie  duck  In  its  attempt  to  escape  would  not  dive  be- 
low the  surface  and  disappear  as  they  often  do  when 
not  pursued,  but  half  swimminj?,  half  flying  make 
every  fflfort  to  escape.  Fido  lias  been  known  to  keep 
in  hot  pursuit  and  capture  the  fugitive  after  a  cha«e 
of  more  than  three  miles  in  ice-cidd  water.  Anil  if  it 
so  happened  that  some  were  killed  outright  and  otliers 
only  wounded,  witli  rare  discrimination  he  wouhl 
single  out  and  capture  the  wounded  ones  before  re- 
trieving tliose  killed  outright. 

During  tlie  early  morning  houi-s  we  had  very  good 
sliooting,  but  between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  the  wind 
died  out,  the  day  liccame  warm  and  sunny,  the  sea- 
fowl  took  their  departure  from  the  Hack  bay  and 
sounds  to  the  ocean,  anil  duck  r<hooting  was  over  until 
their  return  to  the  feeding  groumls  towards  evening. 
My  boatman  proposed  that  we  go  over  to  Long  Island 
and  try  for  snipe  and  ipiail,  and  he  thought  that  per- 
haps we  miglit  get  some  black  duck  in  the  numerous 
lakelets  and  marshes  on  tlie  island  which  furnish  tine 
feeding  grounds  for  them,  and  where,  being  surrounded 
by  rank  growth  of  cane  and  flag  which  renders  access 
to  them  extremely  ditlicult,  they  remain  in  compara- 
tive security.  \\'e  soon  made  landing  near  a  hog  wol- 
low  and  were  scarcely  on  land  before  we  were  greeted 
with  scaipe,  scaipe  as  hither  and  thither  darted  cork- 
screwing snipe.  We  punished  a  number  that  Fido  re- 
trieved with  the  promptness  of  a  master  in  the  art, 


Orly  a  Do<t. 


421 


beinK  iteady  at  he«l  when  not  so  «D|{B|;eil.  We 
crossed  over  a  ridge  of  kud  that  runs  parallel  with  the 
island,  and  which  is  under  cultivation,  and  no  Hooner 
did  we  cross  a  ditch  on  the  opposite  side  than  Fido 
was  off  into  the  broom  grass  and  scattering  scrub 
pine. 

"Oh  my!  but  we  will  have  some  fun  now,"  said 
Mac. 

"  Why,  what's  up  now  ?"  said  I. 

"  He's  after  a  coon  and — " 

But  before  the  words  were  ended  the  battle  was  on. 
liaz^ile,  dazzle,  spit,  yelp,  iiowl,  snarl,  and  dog  and 
coon  were  whirling  rouud  and  round,  over  and  under, 
and  finally  emerging  into  a  little  open  patch  the  coon 
laid  firm  hold  of  the  dog's  cheek  and  made  him  howl 
with  pain,  f  rushed  in  to  despatch  the  animal,  but  I 
was  stopped  by  Mac,  wlio  said — 

"  Let  tliem  have  it  out  I  Let  them  have  it  out ! — 
I'll  bet  on  Fido  every  time." 

Fido  wliirled  round  and  round  with  such  rapidity 
as  to  break  the  hold  of  thec<:'on  and  landing  him  fully 
ten  feet  away.  Before  lie  could  regain  his  feet  Fido 
closed  in  and  soon  ended  tlie  combat.  We  continued 
on  to  the  little  lake  at  the  end  of  the  creek,  and 
<iuietly  and  carefully  made  our  way  up  to  its  margin, 
when  up  jumped  a  bunch  of  seven  black  ducks  un<l  we 
succeeded  in  dropping  five  of  tliem.  The  lake  is  so 
l"'Kgy  t'lat  we  could  not  have  recovered  a  single 
duck,  but  in  sprang  Fido  and  retrieved  overy  one. 
We  then  turned  our  steps  toward  the  upper  end  of 
the  island,  some  two  miles  distant,  where  a  crop  of 
cereals  had  been  harvested,  to  look  for  quail,  or  part- 
ridge as  they  ale   called  in  Virginia,      Reaching  a 


423 


Gatrsrbd  Waikiets. 


grove  of  scattering  pine  trees  we  sat  down  upon  a 
knoll  to  eat  our  lunch,  Fido  dropping  down  in  front 
of  us.  For  some  time  we  noticed  that  he  seemed 
fidgetty  and  restless,  but  thinking  it  might  be  owing 
to  undue  and  excessive  exertion  during  the  fore- 
noon we  gave  the  matter  little  thought  until  he 
quietly  got  np  and  with  cautious,  stealthy  step  went 
quartering  behind  us  a  few  feet  and  pounced  upon  a 
huge  black  snake  fuUy  six  feet  long  that  lay  coiled 
np  in  the  sunshine.  He  soon  shook  the  life  ont  of 
him,  but  was  so  loth  to  desist  that  Mac  had  to  take 
the  snake  on  the  end  of  a  stick  and  carrying  him 
seventy-five  or  a  hundred  yards  away,  hung  him  on  a 
dead  limb  that  projected  from  a  pine  tree  some  feet 
above  the  ground.  He  had  not  covered  more  than 
half  the  distance  on  his  return  before  a  buzzard  bore 
down  and  seizing  his  snakeship  made  off  with  him  to 
enjoy  his  noon-day  meal. 

Soon  after  we  were  in  the  stubble  and  ragweed, 
when  right  and  left  quartered  Fido,  attending  strictly 
to  the  business  in  hand,  as  alert  and  active  as  though 
he  had  hunted  nothing  but  quail  all  his  life.  He 
challenges,  he  roads  them  in  the  winding  and  devious 
pathways,  and  finally  straightens  out  on  point  as 
rigid  as  a  statue.  We  closed  in  and  flushed  the  birds 
and  Mac's  unerring  gun  scored  three  and  the  writer  was 
content  with  one.  At  command,  Fido  retrieved  them 
with  as  much  care  and  pride  as  any  sportsman  could 
wish.  We  continued  the  quest  and  secured  five  more 
plump  birds  before  returning  home.  The  events  of 
the  day  and  the  performance  of  Fido  did  not  impress 
me  at  the  time  as  bordering  on  the  marvelous,  but  on 
our  trip  back  to  Little  Island  he  so  promptly  took  his 


ft 


O.M.V  A  Doo. 


42:! 


place  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  to  watch  for  sea-fowl  as 
usual  that  the  writer  could  not  forbear  to  speak  of  liis 
varied  accomplishments,  when  Mac  said  that  to  see 
him  at  his  best  lie  must  be  seen  after  the  cotton  tails, 
and  proposed  that  we  drop  down  to  the  lower  end  of 
the  island,  where  there  was  some  scrub  growth,  and 
give  them  a  run.  This  we  dul,  and  taking  our  j.laces 
on  some  little  mounds  of  shell  and  sand  we  soon  saw 
bunny  running  at  full  speeil,  closelv  followed  bv  t!i<' 
dog. 

He  turned  him  to  the  left  and  liea.led  him  around  by 
Mae,  whose  old  reliable  gim  ended  the  chase.  Fido  at 
once  quartered  around  and  soon  jumped  another  who 
lead  him  a  much  longer  run,  but  he,  too,  true  to  his 
instinct,  turned  to  reach  the  place  of  his  departure 
where  he  was  stopped  in  his  tracks  when  at  the  heiglit 
of  his  speed  by  the  leaden  messengers  of  death. 

We  captured  several  more  wlien  we  returned  to  the 
house,  luiving  killed  a  larger  variety  of  game  in  a 
single  <lay  than  it  has  ever  been  my  "lot  to  do  befor<' 
or  since,  having  had  tlie  benefit  ami"  jih^asure  of  sueli 
a  dog  as  I  never  again  expect  to  see,  and  which,  with- 
out exaggeration,  1  may  call  a  marvel  of  his  species. 

He  has  compassed  the  limit  of  his  days  an<l  is  gone. 
He  sleeps  where  the  woo-oo-oof-oo  of  tlie  swan  and  the 
varied  notes  of  the  sea-fowl  blend  with  the  ceaseless 
murmur  of  the  ocean  as  it  sings  a  fitting  requiem 
while  a  friendly  hand  places  this  humble  tril)ute  as  a 
chaplet  upon  his  lonely  grave.  —  Amntcur  Sp,„tnm<n,, 
January,  1892. 


,    .1 


:!  !' 


VERACIOUS  JIM. 


'  i 


Im 

Pi 


^^-^  TT  JELL,  I  guess  1  liiul  !«'ttoi-  punch  up  yer 
••  W/  lire  u  little,  liiuhi't  I,"  said  our  Factotum 
'  ^  as  he  peered  into  our  lean-to  on  the  shore 
of  Arnold  pond  at  the  head  waters  of  the  Dead  river 
near  the  suniniit  of  the  Boundary  mountains  in  north- 
western Maine.  "  It  seems  to  me  it's  gettm'  purty 
low,  and  it  will  be  more  cheerful  lik."  if  it  l.la/.es  up 
higher  and  brighter." 

"  Thank  vou,  Jim.  And  so  it  will.  Ami  whde  you 
are  about  it' you  liad  liettor  throw  on  some  fresh  wood, 

please." 

With  this  interrui)tion  disposed  of,  my  companion 
complete.1  the  story  of  his  recovery  from  a  very  dan- 
gerous illness  when  on  a  hunting  trip  in  the  Rocky 
mountains  and  far  distant  from  mo.Ucal  aid.  ilean- 
while  Jim  liad  noiselessly  a.ljusted  the  burning  em- 
bers ami  replenished  the  tire  witli  fresh  fuel,  hut  a 
novice  wouhl  have  obserxe.l  that  his  exeee.lmg  care  to 
make  no  noise  betokened  listening  ears. 

"  Wal,  I've  got  a  good  tiling  to  cure  a  feller  when 
he's  sick,"  said  Jim,  "  and  if  yous  d.m't  miml  I'll  tell 
vuli  about  it." 

As  there  was  a  good  opening  ami  nothing  pressing, 
Jim  was  invited  to  procee.l,  but  just  here  a  wor.l  in 
reference  to  Jim  seems  o|iporlune. 

Vt  the  little  wavsule  inn  on  the  edge  of  the  wdder- 
„ess  where  we  met  our  guides  and  spent  th<.  night  he 


Vbbaoious  Jim. 


425 


first  came  ander  oar  notice.  A  boy's  awkwardness 
linked  with  a  boy's  frankness,  his  droll  way  and  evi- 
dent humor,  his  taste  for  adventure  and  love  for  life 
in  the  woods,  his  drawling  intonation  and  habit  of 
ending  his  sentences  in  the  rising  inflectiou,  as  if  to 
indicate  that  his  thought  tank  always  held  something 
in  reserve — interested  us  in  him,  and  but  little  negotia- 
tion was  necessary  to  add  him  to  our  corps  of  assist- 
ants for  our  adventure  through  the  woods,  over  the 
mountains,  upon  ruffled  lakes  and  beside  the  rippling 
streams  in  that  section  of  the  state  of  Maine  where 
the  watershed  divides  the  waters  of  t'.e  Androscoggin 
from  the  Kennebec. 

lie  had  reached  that  undetermined  time  in  life 
when  he  might  bp  called  a  lad,  youth,  boy  or  man — 
but  the  world  had  probably  carried  him  twenty  times 
around  the  sun,  and  his  system  and  appearance  gave 
abundant  evidence  of  generous  response  to  the  action 
of  the  centripetal  and  centrifugal  forces.  He  was 
enlongated  beyond  his  years,  and  like  the  white  bircli 
sapling  whose  trunk  is  not  sufficient  to  support  its 
superincumbent  weight,  his  inclined  head,  stooping 
shoulders  and  shuffling  gait  told  of  inroads  already 
made  by  the  action  of  the  latter  force. 

The  passing  days  had  been  rapidly  gathered  into 
weeks  of  unalloyed  pleasure,  and  now  night  found  our 
camp  made  andcamp-fire blazing  beside  thelakelet  made 
famous  in  American  history  by  Benedict  Arnold  and 
his  loyal  band  of  brave  Continental  soldiers.  And 
Jim — plain,  awkward,  angular  Jim — was  now  ready  as 
ever  to  be  helpful  in  need  and  to  evoke  hearty  laugh- 
ter by  disquisitions  from  his  philosophy,  explaining 
pet  theories,  and  the  relation  of  ludicrous  experiences. 


I 


426 


Gatherkd  Waiflets. 


Jim  had  evidently  been  on  terms  of  closest  intimacy 
with  the  members  of  the  truth  expanding  club  and 
had  profited  by  their  doctrines  until  he  doubtless  came 
to  believe  that  his  pronouncements  were  gospel  truths 
—and  they  were  delivered  with  such  apparent  candor 
that  it  would  be  very  ungracious  to  question  their 
veracity  or  to  manifest  dissent. 

"Wal  Mariah  Jackson  she  corned  cross  lots  to  our 
house  to  borrer  the  sheep  shears  and  she  staid  till 
arter  dark  when  she  sed  as  how  she  was  fraid  to  go 
hum.  Mar  tole  me  to  go  hum  with  her  and  sum  how 
I  didn't  get  back  till  purty  late  and  nex  momin'  T 
cndn't  talk  more'n  our  ole  coon  dorg.  Mar  sed  1 
must  go  down  to  the  village  and  see  the  doctor  as  she 
feard  1  had  got  the  noomonay.  AVal  the  doctor  sed  I 
was  mighty  bad  and  he  rit  suthin  on  a  bit  of  paper  and 
he  told  me  it  was  a  prascripshon  and  if  I  wanted  to 
live  1  must  foller  it  egzackly.  Wal  yer  kin  bet  yer 
ole  boots  I  wanted  to  live  and  would  live  if  foUerin 
the  prascripshon  egzackly  wud  do  the  trick. 

"Goin'  over  the  bridge  on  the  way  hum  the  wind 
riz  my  liat  and  ketehen  it  quick  I  let  go  of  the  pras- 
cripshon and  it  blowed  into  the  river  Then  I  wanted 
to  live  more'n  ever  and  I  j-imped  right  in  and  foUered  it 
eg.iackly  as  the  Doctor  tole  me.  When  I  got  out  of 
the  water  I  was  as  cold  as  a  big  isikel,  bu^  I  run  hum 
fast  like  and  got  right  into  bed  with  the  prascrip- 
shon and  got  well  rite  off.  If  yuh  fellahs  want  a  good 
medicine  yuh  ort  to  get  a  prascripshon  and  foller  it." 
"Well,  Jim,  you  were  in  luck  for  sure.  But  which 
would  you  prefer— a  flying  race  through  the  air  with 
angels  or  the  trip  down  the  Djad  river  to-morrow  in 
canoes  with  nai" 


Veracious  Jim. 


'»   'I 


427 


"Wal  I  dnnno,  seen  as  I  never  flied  with  wings,  bnt 
I  flied  onct  I  tell  yer." 
"Yon  did,  Jim.  Do  tell  us  about  it,  won't  you  ?" 
"Wal  it  was  this  way.  Dad  he  said  Jim  you  go  up 
to  the  woodlot  this  artemoon  and  salt  the  cattle,  and 
be  sure  and  see  if  they  are  all  there.  Jack,  thats  my 
brother,  was  rakin  hay  with  the  ole  mare  and  so  it  was 
shank's  horse  or  the  old  bisykle  with  me.  The  lane 
was  purty  good  doin  and  so  I  straddled  the  masheen 
and  lit  out.  When  I  got  to  the  pastur  I  found  all  the 
cattle  but  tlie  old  spotted  cow  and  a  yeariin'  heifer.  I 
went  up  the  ole  tote  road  lookin  for  em  and  took  the 
masheen  along  so  as  to  hide  it  in  the  bushes. 

"Wal  I  went  and  I  went  and  I  looked  and  I  looked 
but  I  couldn't  find  anything  of  the  critters.  I  kept  it 
up  till  the  sun  got  dovn  below  the  treetops  and  I 
made  up  my  mind  to  give  up  the  hunt.  AVhen  I  got 
back  so  I  could  see  where  I  left  my  bisykle,  by  jim- 
iny  blazes  what  dye  think  I  see  i— a  gol  darned  big 
buck  eyin  and  spyin  the  mashenn.  He  had  a  great 
big  set  of  horns  like  a  rockin  chair  on  his  head  and 
they  was  covered  with  velvet.  lie  was  cockin  his 
head,  a  snuffin  and  turnin  and  by  gol  I  stood  and 
looked  and  laffed  to  myself  to  see  such  a  caperin 
But  all  at  once  liis  horns  got  itchy  or  he  got  mad 
and  went  buttin  at  the  masheen  and  I  hollered  at  him 
f-T  fear  he  would  break  it.  He  reared  upon  his  hind 
legs  to  dash  away  when,  great  Scott,  his  horns  were 
through  the  wheels  and  away  he  scud  like  a  flash  with 
the  masheen  upon  hia  head.  But  he  didn't  go  far  be- 
fore one  of  the  wheels  caught  upon  a  limb  of  a  tree 
and  then,  gee  whizz,  you  ort  to  see  the  circus.  Bnt  I 
couldn't  wait  to  see  the  fun  for  fear  he  would  break 


^Vli 


f      i 


i     J 


428  Gathbihd  Waiflbtb. 

everything  to  pieces.  I  got  up  to  him  as  soon  as  I 
could  but  he  struck  at  me  so  with  his  feet  that  1 
couldn't  get  a  hold  of  the  masheen  any  way  I  tried. 
He  had  thrown  his  head  up  so  high  I  don't  believe  I 
could  have  reached  it  from  the  ground  anyhow. 

"Wal,  I  looked  around  and  I  couldn't  see  but  one 
thing  to  do.  There  was  a  small  white  birch  tree  grow- 
ing a  little  ways  off  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  climb 
it  up  to  pretty  near  the  top  and  swing  off  over  to  the  limb 
that  stuck  through  the  wheel  and  then  pull  it  off  from 
the  buck's  horns.  But  yuh  fellahs  know  how  con- 
samedly  contrary  things  goes  sometimes.  Wal,  that 
is  just  the  way  that  tree  did.  It  let  me  down  right 
straddle  of  the  critter  and  my  weight  broke  off  the 
limb.  I  had  just  time  to  grab  his  horns  when  away 
we  went  in  a  jiffy  like  a  streak  down  the  tote  road ! 
Talk  of  yer  flyin  angels  and  autermobiles  then !  Wal 
I  jest  didn't  hev  time  to  think  when  we  reached  the 
garden  fence  behind  the  house  when  over  it  he  went 
ker  plunk  ajd  his  front  end  was  so  heavy  he  struck  on 
his  head  and  broke  his  neck,  and  for  a  fact  he  was  kilt 
ded,  he  was." 

"Well,  Jim,  that  was  an  experience  indeed— an  ex- 
perience that  few  if  any  have  ever  had.  But  to  land 
a  big  buck  right  at  the  door  of  your  home  must  have 
pleased  you'  parents  very  highly." 

"Wal  no  it  didn't.  He  fell  in  our  cucumber  bed 
and  broke  down  all  the  vines  and  killed  them,  and 
that  was  too  bad." 

"Yes,  but  was  not  that  pretty  late  in  the  season 
for  cucumbers  2  It  seems  to  me  that  the  crop  if  put 
in  at  the  right  time  must  have  attained  to  maturity 
long  before." 


WaVSIDE  PiCTlRES. 


429 


"  Oil,  yos,  yiire  right.  But  our  fust  crop  was  all  de- 
stroyeil  bi'foro  we  kuowed  it.  Yuli  see  it  was  this 
way.  One  of  tlieiii  are  sportsmen  from  <lown  Massa- 
chusetts way  sent  nnir  a  new  kind  of  cat  and  when  she 
went  to  get  some  of  tlie  furst  lot  of  cucumbers,  bv  gol 
what  d'ye  think f  —  ther  sot  tlio  Massachusetts  cat 
under  the  vines  eaten  the  last  cucumber!  Wal,  that 
ole  cat  was  out  of  the  way  before  we  got  over  our 
mad.  But  the  funniest  thing  yuh  ever  heerd  tell  of 
is  that  all  the  younguns  she  left  behind  looked  like 
cucumbers  and  their  tails  looked  jest  like  cucumber 
vines  1  We  are  now  waitin'  to  see  if  "  —  but  the  snore 
maker  interfered  and  future  generations  have  lost 
the  valuable  lesson  in  biology  or  the  deductions  from 
the  wisdom  and  philosoi)hy  of  Veracious  Jim.  —  Maine 
]V(iotli<,  Juinuiry  39,  I'JOl. 


■i'il 


I     l1 


WAYSIDE  PICTURKS. 


1 


THE  dregs  of  life  abound  anil  obtrude  their  un- 
welcome   sliadows    in    plentitude,    but    for   no 
length  of  time  if  ever  are  they  in  sole  posses- 
sion,  noi-   are   they   necessarily   overwhelming.     The 
nectar  of  life  is  not  wholly  withheld  from  even  the 
unfortunate  who  may  chance  to  be  born  under  the 


•■    1 


I    ! 


::      I 


430 


Gathered  W.mfi.eth. 


most  unfiivornble  planetary  juxtaposition  of  tlic  astrol- 

Dregs  and  nectar  mix  ami  interlace,  forming  the 
weft  an<l  woof  of  the  fabric  called  life,  brilliant  hues 
and  sombre  colorings  blending  in  the  mosaic.  Man 
living  but  little  in  the  present,  involuntarily  turns  to 
the  varied  sun-lit  i)ictures,  tlie  ganiering  of  years, 
stored  in  memory's  casket,  and  which  form  a  pleasing 
panorama  reaching  from  youth  to  latest  years.  Abid- 
ing companions  they  penetrate  the  deepest  gloom  ami 
brighten  the  darkest  hour.  Tid-bits  of  life  not  im- 
portant in  themselves  yet  as  refreshing  and  invigorat- 
ing as  a  sunmier  shower. 

Tlie  lover  of  nature,  he  who  delights  to  woo  her  in 
lirr  solitudes  far  from  the  liaunts  of  men,  has  photo- 
graphed on  his  mind  endless  pictures  not  elsewhere  to 
be  found  that  rival  the  artist's  most  successful  limning. 
Uppermost  in  our  thoughts  just  now  is  an  early 
morning  gem  from  the  wihls  of  Maine.  The  days  of 
September  of  a  not  distant  year  were  rapidly  drawing 
to  a  close,  the  neighboring  mountain  peaks  were 
capped  with  snow,  while  in  the  valleys  below  the 
cardinal  (lower  (L.  Caidimitis)  in  all  its  gorgeous 
wealth  of  color,  seemed  like  nature's  wail  of  protest  to 
the  further  advance  of  winter.  The  embers  had 
burned  low  in  our  camp-fire  on  the  shore  of  Crosby 
Pond,  and  as  night  wore  away  we  were  awakened  by 
its  chilliness.  (Quietly  arising  from  our  bed  of  boughs 
of  fragrant  spruce  and  hemlock,  so  as  not  to  disturb 
the  other  sleepers,  we  stealthily  essayed  to  replenish 
it.  A  kindred  spirit,  H.  S.  S.,  tried  and  true,  a  boon 
camp  companion  of  many  summers  and  winters  in  the 
wilderness  and  in  other  Sportsman's  a.lventures,  was 


i       . 


Waykidb  Pictures. 


481 


Boon  at  my  side,  the  rtre  again  blazing  brightly  and 
lending  an  added  charm  and  bestowing  a  genial 
warmth  throughout  the  camp. 

Water  was  boiling  and  soon  we  regale<i  ourselves 
with  a  cup  of  fragrant  chocolate.  The  dawn  was  break- 
ing in  the  east  and  we  decided  to  paddle  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  lake,  some  miles  distant,  to  get  enough  trout 
at  the  inlet  for  breakfast.  We  were  about  to  step 
into  a  canoe  when  we  were  joined  by  one  of  our 
guides,  who  was  ever  ready  to  "blige  us,  and  who  ex- 
pressed  a  desire  to  accompany  us. 

Pushing  off  from  shore  he  asked  if  we  had  a  rifle 
with  us.  We  answered  that  when  we  go  for  trout  we 
go  for  trout,  and  besides  the  law  would  not  permit  the 
taking  of  deer  until  after  another  midnight. 

"Very  well,"  said  he,  "but  one  does  not  know  what 
he  may  see  above  the  island  up  there." 

Paddling  along  quietly  though  swiftly,  the  water 
broke  over  our  bow  and  sparkled  like  a  shower  of 
gems  in  the  rising  sun.  The  god  of  day  had  rolled 
resplendent  above  the  horizon  as  we  passed  the  upper 
end  of  the  island. 

"Hold,"  said  Jack  softly,  "see  the  deer  on  our  left" 

There,  not  two  hundred  yards  away,  stood  a  mother 
doe  and  her  full  grown  fawn  feeding  on  the  lily  pads. 
Jack  whispered  to  keep  perfectly  still  and  let  him 
manage  the  canoa 

The  sun  in  all  its  gorgeousness  at  our  back  and  the 
wind  directly  from  the  west  enabled  Jack  to  bear 
down  upon  them  unperceived.  Slowly  and  noiselessly 
we  made  advance  until  less  than  fifty  yards  divided  us. 

What  a  sunrise  picture ! 

A  monntain  background  overgrown  with  a  dense 


432  Gathbbsd  Waiflkts. 

g^wth  of  evenreen,  .  pUeid  lake  -^  '^^^  "^^ 

mouth  while  eating!  ._^  ^jj^^^, 

Minutes  succeeded  minutes  wuiio 

wrapt  admiration  of  the  scene.  „,nhablv 

The  sun  soaring  aloft  above  our  head    prob-b  y 

«ll..wed   the   mother  to   -^P^  ;Toot™to  Imfve 
She  gave  a  sudden  stamp  «ith  her  foot  as  if  to  re 
V,'.-   „  dv  in  ft  few  minutes  snap  went  her  flag,  an 

to  fish  tliat  raornms  ii»  Amateur 

eamp  without  making  a  single  rateh.-Tfte  4rna 

Sportsman,  July,  1S92- 


SPORTSMANSHIP. 

1492 1892. 


THE  Columbian  year  is  upon  us  and  the  honr  of 
retrospection  and  reflection  is  at  hand.  The 
frail  caravels  of  Columbus  that  ventured  out 
upon  the  unknown  seas  from  the  port  of  Palos,  August 
3,  1492,  present  a  strange  contrast  with  the  huge  and 
staunch  ocean  greyhounds  of  our  day,  but  never  sailed 
other  fleet  with  destiny  more  grand  and  consequence 
so  great  to  the  human  race.  The  evolution  and  devel- 
opment of  sea-going  craft  from  the  days  of  Columbus 
to  the  present  time  well  typify  the  evolution  and  devel- 
opment of  our  civilization. 

We  are  not  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  Columbus 
saw  the  days  of  the  Renaissance,  that  printing  was 
already  au  fait  accompli,  that  the  parchment  had 
received  the  immortal  De  Civitate  Dei  of  Augustine 
some  nine  hundred  years  before,  and  that  Thomas 
Aquinas  illumined  the  world  and  earned  the  title  of 
"Father  of  Moral  Philosophy"  some  centuries  before 
the  diucoverer  of  the  New  World  was  born. 

Neverth(!less,  but  few  of  the  many  had  ascended  to 
the  mountain  heights  of  learning  and  medievalism 
and  feudalism  enveloped  the  masses.  As  through  a 
valley  of  darkness,  the  hnman  race  has  journeyed 
Tor  centuries,  ever  striving  and  struggling  upward 
toward  the  civilization  of  the  nineteenth  century — ever 
seeking  to  attain  to  the  hpaven-born  ideal  with  the 


i 

i     1 


.;■  ■  i 


I      i 


^f^^  oathkrrd  Wmklkts. 

.ame  loyalty  and  devotion  that  the  needle  wek.  the 

'^To  the  superficial  and  nnthinking  it  may  seem  that 
revolution  and  retrogreasion  were  scattered  vath  too 
„,uch  profusion  along  the  pathway  of  centuries  to  ju.t^ 
Uy  such  assertion  but  a  dive  below  the  surface  and  a 
closer  examination  reveal  these  as  phi  osophic  mean, 
to  an  end.  The  mephitio  afnosphere,  for  its  punfloa- 
tion  and  to  render  it  salubrious  and  -ho  esome,  need, 
he  lightning's  flash,  which  may  work  individual  injury 
and  death, 'he  needle  may  be  disturbed  and  deflected 
by  external  perturbation,  but  its  tendency  is  ever  the 

'"sportsmanship  is  an  attribute  of  the  highest  civiUza^ 
tion  and  flourishes  most  in  countries  hat  have  a  t«ned 
to  the  superlative  in  development.  In  primitive  times 
and  n  the  patriarchal  age.  sportsmanship  as  we  now 
know  it  had  no  existence;  in  medieval  times  we  dis^ 
cover  but  its  n.ost  imperfect  and  crude  -d.mentB;  m 
feudal  times  it  began  to  assume  shape  and  form 
which  have  been  perfected  and  ennobled  "' la  "  timcB. 
until  today  it  is  fully  in  touch  with  the  highest,  best 
and  most  progressive  in  our  civilization. 

The  brotherhood  of  sportsmen  now  compass  the  um- 
yerse  and  its  members  need  not  signs,  grips  nor  pass- 
word! to  secure  fraternal  rocoKuition  and  compamon- 
«hip,  while  the  ti..  that  binds  is  as  strong  as  perBonal 
worth  and  desert.  The  wedding  garment  of  sports- 
manship may  not  be  bartered  for  gain  nor  to  gra^^y 
unworthy  ambition,  and  if  not  worthily  won.  the  nght 
hand  of  fellowship  is  soon  withdrawn  from  the  mas- 
querading imposter. 


A  Rio  Lkttsb  Day  48A 

Its  literature  ii  olaaiio,  abundant  and  wholeiome 
and  no  Zola  defile*.  In  invention*  and  diicoverie* 
that  ameliorate  and  abbreviate  the  a*peritie*  of  life, 
many  of  the  mo*t  important  and  valuable  are  the  work 
of  him  whose  proudest  title  is  that  of  brother  sports- 
man. He  is  no  stranger  in  the  bustling  marts  of  com- 
merce, nor  in  the  halls  of  legislation;  he  graces  the 
judicial  ermine  on  the  bench,  and  many  times  has  he 
been  called  to  the  highest  honor  and  dignity— to  pre- 
side as  President  over  the  greatest  nation  and  freest 
and  most  enlightened  people  on  earth.  It  behooves  its 
devotees  of  the  present  time  to  he  loyal  to  the  tradi- 
tions of  the  guild  that  have  such  worthy  exemplifi- 
cation in  our  own  day,  an  honorable  and  venerable 
antiquity,  and  to  transmit  to  posterity  unsullied  its 
priceless  inheritance.  —  TAe  Amateur  Sportsman, 
November,  1892. 


A  RED  LETTER  DAY  ON  A  MASSACHUSETTS 
TROUT  BROOK. 


TIME  in  his  onward  march  has  not  yet  meas- 
ured a  twelve-month  since  we  went  trout 
fishing — a  boon  companion  and  myself.  It 
is  true  we  have  many  times  since  angled  in  rippling 
streams  and  ruflled  lakes  with  satisfactory  results,  but 
taken  all  in  all  the  occasion  referred  to  stands  out  in 
our  angling  calendar  as  the  red  letter  day  and  best 
remembered  of  all. 
The  weather  bureau  had  not  been  sending  out  to  the 


i ! 


r  j 


l;j-    I 


486  Gathbbed  Waiklets 

TMidents  of  the  Old  Bay  State  tempting,  balmy  zephyrs 
^weie  sunshine  during  the  early  weeks  of  the  open 
Ison.  and  this  unfavorable  weather  helped  to  recon 
oile  us  to  the  exactions  of  business  cares.  But  ever 
and  anon  would  come  unbidden  the  words  of  the 
rhymster : — 

"I  love  to  dream  by  valley's  stream 
And  live  with  quiet  peace  alone; 
The  brook  and  wood,  the  vale  and  tree 
Are  the  green  homes  of  joy  to  me." 

The  looked-f  or  day  at  length  arrived  and  we  took  our 
departure  in  the  afternoon  for  a  long  d"ve  into  the 
ooS     The  robins  were  in  the  midst  of  their  domes- 
tic ca7es  and  the  swallows  were  busy  bmlding  their 
hoJes  of  mud;  the  hill  tops  were  clothed  m  deepest 
jrn  and  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep  lent  an 
!dded  charm;  tidy  homes  of  comfort  surrounded  by 
"iSy  ^ZU  hidges  of  arbor  vitae  and  bU.min« 
plants  dotted  the  landscape;  the  air  '««  «'  «^ J^th  the 
iragrance  of  the  blossoms  of  apple  and  cherry     ^e 
fl^St  of  fleecy  clouds  and  the  undulating  outline  of  hiU 
fofand  distant  mountain  indistinctly  defined  against 
Z  ^nilean  blue  of  heaven's  dome-  all  seemed  as  a 
tZ^i  of  sweet  sounds  that  blended  in  harmony  in 
nature's  undying  symphony.  t,„ftv,o 

But  the  grandeur  of  the  mountains,  the  beauty  of  the 
landscape,  the  flowers  of  the  meadows  and  the  mosses 
ofte  wo^ds  may  charm  the  beholder  and  stiU  human 
perturbation  for  the  moment,  but  they  can  never  sat^- 
fv  the  craving  of  the  heart  for  other  and  tagger  com^ 
p'alJn  S.    These  are  but  the  inferior  links  that  bind 


A  Kbd  Letter  Dat. 


487 


him  to  a  higher  creation  and  tell  him  of  a  yearning 
that  may  be  content  with  nothing  beneath  himself  in 
the  scale  of  created  things.  Such  prized  companionship 
was  mine  on  this  occasion,  as  it  had  been  many  times 
before  in  the  depths  of  the  forest  in  Maine,  where  we 
made  our  campfire  in  the  haunts  of  deer  and  caribou, 
and  where  our  frail  birch  canoe  sought  the  gamey 
trout  that  were  often  deceived  by  our  feathered  lure ; 
as  it  also  was  many  times  on  the  hill  tops,  in  other 
parts  of  New  England,  for  upland  plover,  and  in 
coverts  and  runs  for  grouse  and  woodcock;  and  our 
guns  have  together  sent  the  leaden  messengers  of 
death  to  the  prized  canvass-back  ducks  and  other  sea- 
fowl  in  the  sounds  and  bays  of  Virginia  and  North 
Carolina— and  now  the  drive  seemed  all  too  short  for 
the  fascinations  of  the  present  and  the  enchantments 
of  the  scene. 

The  god  of  day  had  withdrawn  his  rays  behind  the 
western  hills  and  the  stars  peeped  forth  in  the  evening 
twilight  before  we  drew  rein  at  the  well-known  farm 
house  where  a  cordial  welcome  awaited  our  coming. 

In  the  early  dawn  we  were  at  the  bend  below  the  old 
bridge  where  the  swift  water  ends  in  a  deep  pool.  We 
got  down  on  hands  and  knees  and  noiselessly  crept 
sufficiently  near  the  margin  to  cast  into  the  pool  unob- 
served. In  breathless  expectation,  moments  seemed 
minutes  and  minutes  lengthened  into  hours.  We 
cast  again  and  again  without  response.  We  essay  the 
rapids,  letting  our  lure  drift  downward  into  the  pool, 
we  direct  it  under  the  overhanging  bank  at  the  bend, 
we  gently  and  delicately  cast  into  the  deepest  part  until 
it  seemed  as  if  we  had  cross-sectioned  every  inch  of  the 
water— and  yet  no  sign  of  Ufe  or  appreciation  of  our 


!      i 


438  Gathered  Waiflets. 

best  efforts.    Keenest  anxiety  nerved  our  arms  and 

buoyant  hope  spurred  us  on. 

An  hour  that  seemed  a  week  had  passed  and  our 
rainbow  hues  of  sweet  anticipation  began  to  fade  into 
the  sombre  shades  of  disappointment. 

Harry  gently  laid  his  rod  on  the  grass  and  lighted  a 
cigar  and  breathed  forth  volumes  of  the  fragrant  weed, 
and  yet  not  a  word  was  spoken. 

Soon  the  slack  of  his  line  was  noticed  to  be  runmng 
out  and  hastily  grasping  the  butt  of  the  rod  the  reel 
joined  in  with  the  song  that  is  such  joyful  music  to 
the  fisherman.  He  is  on  his  feet  on  the  instant,  and 
the  water  is  lashed  into  foam. 

"Careful  there,  Harry,-oaref  ul  1  Great  gunsl 
What  a  fine  fellow  he  is !" 

Artist  that  he  is  with  trout  rod  and  a  nerve  that 
never  loses  its  coolness,  Harry  needed  no  words  of  cau- 
tion from  me,  but  the  transition  from  the  shl  ness  and 
quiet  of  a  moment  before  was  so  sudden  and  the  battle 
began  with  such  fury  that  the  words  came  without 
reflection  from  my  lips. 

"He  is  the  king  of  them  all.  Doc,  and  a  royal  fight 
he's  going  to  make  for  his  freedom.  But  I'm  going  to 
stay  with  him." 

The  eddies  from  his  powerful  tail  were  already 
breaking  upon  the  banks  and  the  bubbles  of  oam 
were  quietly  drifting  down  the  stream.  Out  of  the 
water  Le  leaps  and  tries  to  free  himself  from  the  cruel 
barb,  darts  from  side  to  side  with  the  rapidity  of 
thought,  sulks  on  the  bottom;  but  there  is  a  cool  mas- 
ter hand  at  the  butt  of  the  rod  that  is  equal  to  every 
emergency  and  that  is  quick  to  take  every  advantage. 


A  Rbd  Letter  Dat. 


43» 


He  well  maintained  the  reputation  of  the  trout  family 
for  impetuosity  and  fight,  but  he  began  to  manifest 
evidence  of  surrender  and  inability  to  further  prolong 
the  contest.    He  was  soon  stretched  at  length  upon 
the  grassy  bank,  and  it  was  not  without  a  pang  of 
remorse  that  we  looked  upon  his  royal  beauty  and 
lordly  size.     He  measured  eighteen  inches  in  length 
and  tipped  the  scales  at  two  pounds  and  seven  ounces. 
We  proffered  words  of  congratulation,  and  returned 
to  the  house  for  break  .'ast.    An  hour  soon  passed,  and 
flushed  with  the  experience  and  success  of  the  morning, 
we  retraced  our  steps  to  the  pool,  but  stopped  long 
enough  on  the  way  to  gather  a  bouquet  of  violets  that 
bloomed  in  profusion  by  the  wayside.     Our  tempting 
lure  was   again   offered   to  piscatorial   beauty,   and 
hoping   against   hope   we   persist.     Nearly   an   hour 
passes  when  it  is  my  good  fortune  to  make  anchorage 
to  another  object  of  our  ambition.    After  a  good  fight 
I  landed  another  candidate  for  our  creel  that  measured 
seventeen  and  one-half  inches  and  weighed  two  pounds 
five  ounces.    Felicitations  and   congratulations   were 
mutually  indulged  in,  and  at  ten  o'clock  we  were  on  our 
way  home  with  trophies  that  might  gladden  the  heart 
of  less  enthusiastic  fishermen.    Our   Kodak   accom- 
panies us  on  our  outings,  and  it  tells  the  story  of  our 
success  in  the  accompanying  illustration.    To  prevent 
a  possible  suspicion  of  exaggeration,  a  foot  rule  may 
bfc  seen  between  the  trout  and  we  will  add  that  it  is  an 
ordinary  foot  rule  of  the  market  and  not  one  made  to 
order. 

I  will  only  say  in  conclusion  that  our  experience  on 
this  occasion  reverses  the  usual  order,  as  we  can  truth- 
fully claim  that  the  biggest  fish  did  not  get  away.— Tfce 
Amateur  Sportsman,  May,  1893. 


.■     ■ 


BOSES  AND  THOBNS. 


it  i 


h 


\    t 


.1    ! 


LAUGHING  and  crying,  jubilation  and  despond- 
ency, pleasure  and  pain-and  what  are  these 
but  another  name  for  roses  and  thoms-the 
sum  total  of  life.  Sunshine  and  darkness  and  day  and 
night  seem  not  more  indissolubly  wedded  nor  more  cer- 
tain to  follow  each  other. 

For  a  time  it  may  seem  that  the  roses  and  thorns 
of  life  are  not  equally  distributed  to  persons  and  places, 
some  getting  more  than  a  just  share  of  the  roBes  of  joy, 
and  others,  alas!  ever  enmeshed  in  and  cruelly  wound- 
ed by  the  thorns  of  sorrow. 

From  the  dawn  of  earUest  reason  to  the  hmits  of 
time  this  is  in  continual  evidence,  seek  to  change  it  as 
we  may ;  but  at  no  time  in  life  is  it  more  fully  realized 
Tha'wh'en  going  down  the  slope  of  lengthemng  years 
we  grow  tired  and  sit  down  beside  the  pathway  of  life 
to  take  a  retrospective  look. 

We  note  that  the  days  of  childhood  passed  rapidly 
by  when  many  of  the  seeming  thorns  of  life  blossomed 
forth  into  the  luxuriant  bloom  and  fragrance  of  roses- 
that  the  formative  days  of  the  schoolroom  in  the  pulpy 
adolescent  years  of  life  when  dominant  «f  «1^--  -- 
not  a  factor-when  innocent  mirth  and  roystenng 
laughter  were  not  tinctured  by  the  wormwood  and  gaU 
of  anxiety  and  servitude-roses  were  abundant  and 
thorns  7d  not  afflict;  and  when  we  -t  loose  from 
school  books  and  plumped  into  the  activities  of  Ufe, 


ROSIS   AKD   THOSttS 


441 


every  gtride  to  be  a  step  in  advance  and  upward,  we 
tntiy  determined  to  carve  out  a  future  in  which  no 
thorns  would  be  allowed  to  flourish. 

We  see  the  daring  youth  with  his  good  right  arm 
bared  for  the  conflict,  and  all  untoward  conditions 
must  capitulate  or  surrender.  His  face  is  wreathed  in 
smiles  and  Momus  will  be  his  constant  companion, 
pleasures  and  success  will  multiply  as  rapidly  and  ad- 
here as  closely  as  does  the  huge  ball  of  snow  grow  in 
volume  and  solidity  as  it  rolls  down  the  mountain  side 
on  a  thawing  day  in  springtime. 

And  so  he  goes  forth  firmly  in  the  belief,  even 
though  he  does  not  say  so  in  words,  as  is  attributed  to 
the  Count  de  Monte  Cristo,  that  "the  world  is  minel" 
and  that  it  shall  be  all  sweet  scented  roses.  Alas !  He 
has  not  yet  encountered  the  fens  of  selfishness  nor 
their  luxuriant  growth  of  cruel  thorns  which  lacerate 
and  wound. 

He  hurries  along  the  pathway,  his  face  upturned 
toward  the  summit  of  life,  but  soon  the  sinuous  way 
leads  into  uneven  paths  and  byways  filled  with  obsta- 
cles, when  it  dawns  upon  him  that  his  fancy  painted 
fiction  has  no  reality  in  the  battles  of  life,  and  already 
he  realizes  that  the  few  roses  have  a  siperabundance 
of  thorns.  With  the  vigor  and  optimi  a  of  youth  he 
redoubles  his  efforts  and  preses  onward— obstacles  he 
will  surmount  and  thorns  he  will  trample  upon  and 
crush  beneath  his  feet ! 

But  there  comes  a  lull — the  machinery  is  over- 
taxed—life's struggles  have  become  a  heavy  burden, 
Nature  cries  out  in  protest  and  demands  relief— the 
thorns  effectually  block  the  way. 


i     i 

i 

*    . 

1  ]•:. 

/ 

' 

i  i 


44S 


(JATHBRED    WAirLBTS. 


Thanks  to  the  kindly  interest  of  friends,  to  the  se- 
ductive word  paintings  of  camp  owners,  the  gilt-edged 
Uterature  of  transportation  companies,  and  over  and 
»bove  all  to  the  occular  demonstrations  and  fascina- 
tions of  camp  life  in  the  wilderness  brought  more  ef- 
fectively to  his  door  by  sportsmen's  exhibitions-he 
learns  of  the  extent  of  the  forest,  lakes,  streams  and 
mountains  of  Maine  and  what  they  possess;  of  the 
philanthropy  of  the  people  and  the  cordial  greetings 
that  await  his  coming,  the  superabundance  of  roses  and 
the  absence  of  thorns;  the  great  pleasure,  benefit  and 
success  that  are  there  in  store  for  him  and  he  is  easily 
persuaded  to  visit  the  land  of  roses  so  rosily  painted. 
Packing  his  largest  trunk   with   bundles   of   reas- 
surance and  expectation,  supplied  with  a  modern  cam- 
era to  take  pictures  of  fish  stories  and  of  the  unselfish- 
ness of  the  people,  and  with  plenty  of  good  greenbacks 
in  his  pocket  as  an  effective  remedy  for  a  change  ot 
climate  and  to  use  in  emergencies,  he  hies  himself  to 
the  Pine  Tree  state.  . 

Soon  after  his  arrival  he  seeks  a  compamon  to 
help  him  kill  the  mosquitoes,  to  build  smudge  fires,  to 
share  his  larder,  to  divide  his  pleasures,  to  enjoy  his 
camp-fire,  and  to  sleep  under  the  same  blanket  with 
him  For  these  and  siiuliar  arduous  duties  he  finds 
plentv  of  men  who  are  willins  to  undertake  the  task 
f„r  the  trifling  stipend  ranKiHK  fioni  $J  to  $3  per  day. 
On  inquiry  \w  (""!«  that  tho.e  same  men  command 
and  revive  a  wage  varying  from  $18  to  $.S0  per  month 
swingiuK  an  ax  in  the  woods  and  other  similar  employ- 
ment It  dawns  upon  him  that  camping  out  must  be 
i-vceedingly  severe  labor  to  justify  such  additional 
compensation,  or  possibly  it  is  because  they  make  sucli 


Roses  and  Thorwr. 


448 


hberal  contributions  to  the  fund  for  the  propagation 
and  protection  of  the  fish  and  game  of  the  state  which 
provides  so  much  employment  for  them  at  such  very 
remunerative  wages— and  so  the  rose.  But  as  he  is 
something  of  a  philosopher,  he  refuses  to  probe  the 
question  farther  lest  perchance  he  discover  a  thorn! 
A  tote  team  is  hired  to  transport  the  party  and 
supplies  to  camp  and  here  again  the  price  exacted  sug- 
gests a  repi'tition  of  the  experience  of  hiring  his  guide 
—and  again  fhe  rose  is  not  in  evidence  and  it  becomes 
necessary  to  '•-U  the  point  of  another  thorn,  and  stiU 
other  and  other  thorns. 

The  next  day  after  arrival  in  camp,  he  essays  the 
gentle  art  with  the  gaudy  fly,  but  before  setting  out, 
his  companion,  commonly  V.  own  as  guide,  assures  him' 
that  it  now  being  midsummer  even  expert  fishermen 
may  not  expect  the  wary  trout  to  rise  to  the  most  seduc- 
tive fly,  and  that  novice  that  he  is,  if  he  wishes  trout 
for  the  frj-ing  pan,  he  must  depend  upon  the  festive 
minnow  as  the  only  taking  lure  to  reach  them  in  deep 
water.  Here,  at  least,  is  a  blooming  rose,  thinks  he, 
when  the  minow  pail  and  live  minnows  are  put  aboard 
the  boat.  For  some  time  various  flies  are  industriously 
tried  without  success  when  a  small  minnow  is  attached 
to  the  leader  fly  and  allowed  to  sink  to  the  depths.  For 
some  time  peace  and  quietness  reiffn,  broken  only  by 
the  arrival  and  departure  of  other  boats  and  fishermen 
with  their  guides  who  industriously  but  unsuccessfully 
continue  to  whip  the  water  with  their  favorite  casts 
of  flies. 

It  is  said  that  "everything  comes  to  him  who 
waits, "  and  something  came  and  took  the  minnow  while 
he  waited— a  very  lively  and  determined  something— 


444 


Oathkrid  Waiflcts. 


I    i 


and  then  and  there  there  were  antios  in  the  water  and 
mnaio  in  the  air. 

Whiz-zz-zz-z  went  the  reel,  and  darting  hither  and 
thither  went  the  maddened  trout,  and  a  battle  royal 
was  on  for  snrel  The  line  was  deftly  and  quickly 
reeled  in  and  the  slender  split  bamboo  rod  bending  in 
graceful  ellipse  with  the  strain  gave  him  no  slack  line 
and  consequently  no  opportunity  for  escape. 

Other  fishermen  came  rapidly  to  the  scene  to  wit- 
ness the  spirited  contest  and  to  await  the  result.  In 
due  time  he  was  in  the  landing  net,  a  royal  beauty  and 
the  record  trout  of  the  season  for  size  and  weight. 
Bravos  and  congratulations  were  voiced  by  the  enthus- 
iastic but  unsuccessful  fly  fishermen,  when  one  of  their 
number  inquired, ' '  What  fly  did  he  take  t " 

Being  told  that  it  was  no  useless  fabrication  of 
man  but  a  live  minnow,  his  guide  sneeringly  swd,  "A 
fly  is  good  enough  for  us." 

To  the  inquiry  how  many  they  took  on  the  fly,  he 
turned  away  and  went  in  an  opposite  direction,  but  did 
not  answer. 

And  so  in  the  hour  of  his  triumph  his  rose  of  suc- 
cess must  be  defiled  by  the  thorn  of  insult  and  the  sneer 
of  malevolence  and  envy— by  a  stupid  ingrate  who  was 
probably  getting  double  the  pay  from  the  very  class  he 
so  brutally  insulted  than  he  could  get  at  any  other 
calling  in  his  state. 

Summing  up  the  trip  he  finds  that  the  trout  caught 
cost  him  more  than  $5.00  per  pound,  and  even  at  that, 
the  greater  number  were  returned  to  the  water  un- 
harmed. 

At  a  later  time  he  made  a  winter  trip  and  secured 
a  handsome  buck  that  cost  him  upwards  of  $125— more 


Rosig  AWD  Thobm.  445 

than  $100  of  which  was  expended  in  the  state.  The 
oaroas*  of  such  a  buck  could  be  bought  in  the  market 
or  from  many  of  the  people  throughout  the  hunting 
regions  at  a  price  ranging  from  $5  to  «10,  which  leaves 
something  of  a  margin  of  profit  for  the  benefit  of  the 
people  of  the  state. 

"Abundance  of  moose!"  "Abundance  of  cari- 
bou!" "Moose  and  caribou  on  the  increase!"  so  vo- 
ciferously and  persistently  proclaimed  from  the  house- 
tops of  the  state,  so  to  speak,  for  so  many  years  were 
the  incentives  to  call  our  sportsman  friend  of  the  rose 
and  thorn,  and  many  others,  to  the  state  for  several 
years  where  they  expended  large  sums  of  money,  but 
owing  to  the  probable  extermination  of  the  caribou  and 
the  very  limited  number  of  moose,  most  of  them  re- 
turned without  the  coveted  trophy.  And  now  with  the 
millions  of  dollars  poured  into  the  state  by  visiting 
sportsmen,  he  is  told  that  there  are  those  within  its 
borders  who  contend  that  they  do  not  already  pay  dear- 
ly enough  for  what  they  get,  and  that  there  is  clamor 
for  the  enactment  of  a  law  that  will  exact  a  license  fee 
from  them  to  protect  an  industry  that  now  pays  more 
than  a  hundred  fold  profit  to  the  state  for  the  money 
expended  for  its  development  and  protection.  Is  it  not 
natural  for  him  to  conclude  that  the  promised  land  of 
roses  grows  an  abundant  crop  of  repulsive  thorns?— 
and  that  the  tree  of  selfishness  grows  rapidly  enough 
'vithout  official  stimulus  and  fertilization!— PftiMtp's 
Phonograph,  Phillips,  Maine,  Dec.  8,  1903. 


LAST  NIGHT  IN  CAMP. 


THE  deciduous  trees  had  been  despoilea  of  their 
summer  garaiture;  the  migratory  songsters 
and  sea-fowl  had  gone  to  their  winter  home 
in  the  sunny  south;  the  year  was  already  old. 

The  distant  wilderness  had  echoed  and  re-echoed 
the  report  of  the  death  dealing  rifle;  the  naked 
branches  reached  out  as  if  in  mute  appeal  for  mercy; 
the  outstretched  arms  of  the  conifers  were  bent  to 
earth  with  their  weight  of  purest  snow  as  if  in  holy 
benediction.  , 

The  last  day  of  the  open  season  was  spent;  the 
moon  and  stars  journeyed  in  silence  through  space; 
the  revelry  of  the  camp  alone  broke  the  stillness.  Sal- 
Ues  of  wit,  the  relation  of  adventure  that  ended  in  suc- 
cess, snatches  of  song,  cheers  of  aypreciation  and  roy- 
stering  laughter  told  of  buoyant  manhood,  the  gemal- 
ity  of  companions,  their  ability  and  resourcefulness. 

The  two  weeks  of  camp  life  in  the  wilderness  in 
the  deep  snows  of  mid-winter  had  flown  all  too  quick- 
ly-the  close  season  was  at  hand-this  was  the  las 
night  in  camp.  Mirth  and  melody,  fun  and  frohe,  jes 
and  jolUty  now  had  the  floor  and  reigned  supreme  until 

"In  the  wee  sma  hours  ayant  the  twal" 

adjournment  was  made  to  restful,  bUssful  beds  fash- 
ioned of  the  tender  boughs  of  fragrant  spruce  and  fir. 


LiiT  NioRT  IK  Camp.  447 

when  oonioiou.  wai  exchanged  for  unoonsoiouB  oere- 
bration  in  the  land  of  dreams. 

Soon  after,  the  mantle  "that  cover,  all  human 
thoughts"  had  enveloped  the  camp  and  hushed  the  ex- 
nberance  of  the  jolly  sportsmen  in  deepest  forgetful- 
ness,  the  dream  maker  waved  his  magic  wand  and  the 
erstwhile  log  camp  of  the  sportsmen  was  suddenly 
transformed  into  a  frontier  schoolhouse  with  its  coarse 
board  benches  and  rude  furnishings.  And  laughable 
as  It  may  seem,  of  all  men  in  the  world.  Pa  Stanley 
wielded  the  rod  of  the  schoolmaster  I  Ed  Grant,  Bob 
Phillips,  Joe  St.  Ober,  Andrew  Douglass,  Herb  Heal, 
Leon  Orcutt,  Luther  Gerrish,  John  Haynes  and  other 
well  known  faces  were  seen  among  the  pupils. 

The  schoolmaster's  side  lights  had  grown  so  long 
that  he  had  them  tied  with  a  green  ribbon  in  the  form 
of  a  bow  upon  his  breast,  a  sunburst  crysanthcmura 
decorated  the  lapel  of  his  coat,  his  clothing  represented 
the  highest  attainments  of  the  tailor's  art,  his  features 
intellectual  and  refined,  and  his  deportment  as  digni- 
fied and  winsome  as  if  top-dressed  at  both  ends  of  the 
season  with  cart-loads  of  tactful  urbanity. 
The  teacher  evidently  was  wisely  selected. 
School  was  called  to  order,  the  younger  members 
were  soon  lost  in  juvenile  problems,  the  older  ones 
were  called  for  recitation,  or  for  a  conference  upon 
matters  pertaining  to  the  various  vocations  upon  which 
they  were  about  to  enter  for  tticir  life  work.  Of  the 
latter  Ed  Grant  and  Bob  Phi!  ,pa  were  the  first  upon 
the  gridiron. 

"Well,  Mr.  Grant,  my  young  man,"  said  the  mas- 
ter in  his  most  mellifluous,  heart  w  inning  way,  "now 
that  you  are  about  to  get  through  going  to  school,  I 


I         i 

I    i 


|i .  1' 


448  Gathkreb  Waifi.«t». 

.„npo«,  yon  have  your  nund  made  up  a.  to  what  yoj. 
areSgto  do  to  earn  a  Uvingt  And  r'^'^^J^ 
T  InV  I  hope  you  will  achieve  distinguished  suo- 
"":  in  wLteveTJou  undertake  and  prove  an  honor  to 
Tr  stale     What\uBine«  do  you  intend  to  pursue. 

'°"Do„":rknow  for  sure  yet."  said  Grant     "Bob 

guiding  buBineas  eitlier.    oai  u 

F,1    vou  can  do  well  enough  gmding,  1  know.      o 
Ser^swhenthere-snogui.^^^^^^^^^^ 

up  what  spare  t,me  >- ^-;'^;^;«  "^^  fl^hennen, 
next  party,  or  the  next  >«"  «j;P  ;*  ^^^^^^  ,„a  teach 

and  for  a  «=^-«y-^7  H— b  wiU  huy  them 
them  to  walk,    borne  oi  vu«  ^^^j 

f.om  you  to  t'^'^^/"- S^^^iltA^^^^^^^^^^^ 

of  trout  we  now  have  in  Ma.«e  ^^^.^  ^^^^^^ 

took  a  Land  and  spend  $-a,UW  a  ye» 

'Torralkt'rurBob.  b„t  ta^,  however  sweet, 
"Oh,  talk  18  cluap,  ^^^^g^,   „„ 

one  wanting  to  buy  dry  land  trout 

"WeU,  got  "'-    -"/^iTto'^lt'emollientWm 
:t:b!r:;ranlir::tLwrinkles.  ..hey 


Lam  Nioht  ik  Cakp.  449 

can  pau  the  examination  easily  enough  and  it  will  only 
ooBt  a  dollar  to  put  them  into  the  same  data  with  the 
old  and  experienced  guides. " 

"  The  Maine  Woods  I  The  Christmas  Maine  Woods  I 
All  about  camp  life  in  the  woods,  and  how  to  straddle 
a  fence  and  not  fall  off  on  either  sidel"  rang  out  the 
tuneful  trade  compelling  voice  of  Jim  Brackett  as  he 
guided  ,i:s  panting  reindeer  into  the  school  yard  and 
oomulsi.,1  th-  Rc!  -ol  with  roars  of  laughter,  in  which 
the  go'd  .  u-ired  sclio  I  master  was  forced  to  join. 

!'-acr  was  rtn.illy  .stored  and  studies  resumed, 
wh.!,  up  wont  ,»■  l,,„.a  that  everyone  recognized  as 
being  tliP  ,v,o  ihat  J<,l  u  Haynes  wore  suspended  from 
Ills  ngl't  sl.ouldnr. 

"  V\\li,  Jon,  ..  lii.t  is  itf "  said  the  man  of  erudition 
and  eqiinnii  ii*y. 

"Pleasf,  sir,  Leon  Orcutt  says  Andrew  Douglass  can 
walk  a  moose  to  a  standstill  for  his  customer  to  photo- 
graph and  play  tag  with.  I  don't  know  but  Leon  may 
be  guying  me,  or  stretching  it  a  little,  but  if  he  isn't 
I'd  like  to  know  what  brand  of  an  automobile  Mr. 
Douglass  uses  in  the  woods  over  in  the  Dead  River 
region  to  chase  moose  to  a  standstill  with." 

Luther  Gerrish  moved  uneasily  about  upon  his  seat 
and  two  or  three  knowing  nods  signified  his  interest 
in  the  inquiry. 

"Will  Mr.  Douglass  be  kind  enough  to  explain?" 
said  the  master. 

"Well,"  said  Andrew  Douglass,  "I've  done  the 
trick  on  shank's  horses  more  than  a  few  times  and  I 
can  do  it  again.  I  was  born  some  time  ago,  before  the 
dollar-in-the-slot  guide  was  invented  and  turned  out 


f" 

m 

il'- 

^i  . 

'if- 

''I 

'  !  . 

•^ 

i 

Ij,  J. 


■    ! 


':.      ■ 


450  Gathered  Waiflkts. 

in  job  lota  to  beat  out  his  betters  and  hoodwink  the 

gportgrnen,  andlhave" .  „#  «,- 

Eap-a-tap-ta,^rap-a-tap-tap  upon  the  door  of  the 
camp^uiet  instantly  reign^and  all  eyes  are  tu^ed 
to  g^upon  the  newcomer.  The  door  was  opened 
and  its  size  was  taxed  to  its  utmost  to  permit  him  to 

'"rlistaff  never  seemed  more  corpulent  or  better  con- 
tented with  himself.  Strange  to  ^^r ;^;  ^^''J^ 
tume  from  head  to  foot  was  decorated  with  Uncle 
Sam's  promises  to  pay-in  gold  notes,  silver  certifi- 
cates, national  bank  currency-money,  money,  money, 
top,  bottom,  sides  and  middle-money,  money,  all! 

As  soon  as  the  pupils  could  withdraw  their  JB^-m 
the  latest  arrival  and  his  extraordinary  and  unique 
0  tume  and  look  at  him  squarely  in  the  face,  i  was 
discovered  that  he  was  no  other  than  Leroy  Carleton, 
altTough  his  usual  imperious  and  stern  features  were 
now  wrestiied  in  6x9  smiles. 

He  begged  pardon  for  his  seeming  intrusion  and 

ab?uptne?s,  b^t  when  he  assured  them  that  he  now 

had  mon  y  enough  to  hire  them  all  and  an  army  of 

r^  r^t  bi^  nay  for  game  wardens,  the  schoolhouse 

S  sho«  cheefs.    He  further  announced  that 

he  now  had  money  enough  that  cost  nothing  to  buy  up 

half  of  Maine,  that  he  was  going  to  so  foster  and  pro- 

tbVg  game  that  it  would  soon  overflow  the  state,  and 

that  a  shipment  would  be  made  to  the  less  favored 

Inl  :pon  the  planet  of  Mais  by  the  first  through  hm- 

"  TUeTtrt  detennination  of  the  teacher  was  called 
into  reSisition  to  stem  the  torrent  of  enthusiasm  and 


Thic  Camp  ik  thk  Wildebnbss.  451 

excitement  which  followed.  Having  secured  a  modicnm 
of  order,  the  teacher  continued : 

"Toung  men,  it  is  fortunate  for  us  to  have  with  us 
to-night  such  an  extraordinary  man.  Yon  know  the 
name  Leroy  comes  from  the  French  Le  Boi— the  king, 
but  as  we  do  not  have  kings  in " 

"Come  boys!  Dreamin 'time  has  run  out  1  Get  up! 
broke  in  the  cook.  Breakfast  is  about  ready  and  we 
must  hit  the  tote  road  for  an  early  start  to  reach  the 
settlement  before  night." 

And  thus  ended  the  last  night  in  camp,  as  does 
everything  else  in  this  world,  in  reaUties  and— dreams. 
Maine  Woods,  Dec.  18,  1903. 


THE  CAMP  IN  THE  WILDEENESS. 


"You  may  break,  you  may  shatter  the 

vase  if  you  will, 
But  the  scent  of  the  roses  will  cling  round 

it  still." 

TIME  runs  rapidly  away.     The  year  is  already 
old.    Its  days  are  numbered.    Kindly  Nature 
spreads  her  mantle  of  purest  snow  as  a  fitting 
shroud  for  the  burial. 

And  the  children  of  men  do  well  to  speed  the  passing 
of  the  old  as  they  greet  the  coming  of  the  New  Year— 
with  cheering  song  and  gladsome  mirth,  with  backs 
turned  towards  the  setting  sun  of  the  past,  and  up- 


'j':    't        'i 


^52  Gathered  Waiflets. 

turned  faces  looking  to  the  rising  sun  of  the  future 
with  thanksgiving  and  high  resolve 

The  past  is  history,  and  the  future-who  knowsj 
The  camp  in  the  wilderness!  what  a  type  of  Ufe-of 

tri,ti;tt? «  c .-  -.■»»•. 

and  robust  manhood  in  the  ^'''""'"f^VX "  of  the 

Thy  coming  into  existence  was  in  the  sunshine  of  the 

noli^nt  past-the  springtime  of  thy  ?--    ^tj 

"wlrthands  firmly  laid  thy  hearthstone  and    y^^tn- 

IsrofTdorous  «7— ji-;;:f;tro 

pleteness,  adornment  and  comfor^a  type 

duly  equipped  for  the  battle  "f  W«^  ^    ^^, 

Ld  join.,  bi»«  'r  ""S  '  hOo^.   «  " 

sportsman's  song,  old-time  ballads,  bn"«  ^ 

skilful   repartee,    snatches    from    the    tragedies 
Sespeal,   and   otW   -"^^^^P^^^^^^^^ 

.rr^inrri:s:rwith  the  odors  of 


Thb  Camp  in  thb  Wildrhnkss.  453 

frying  moose-steak  and  onions,  attested  the  skill  of 
the  cook  and  tempted  the  appetite— and  here  is  the 
type  of  the  young  man,  at  the  flood-tide  of  success, 
before  he  reaches  the  span  of  mid-life. 

But  times  change  and  people  change  with  them,  and 
this  alas !  brings  thee  to  thy  days  of  old  age  and  decrep- 
itude before  thy  time,  and  to  none  does  it  come  with 
more  force  and  sadness  than  to  the  large  corps  of 
guides  and  other  employees  who  shared  in  thy  pleas- 
ures as  fully  as  their  employers  who  generously  shared 
with  them  the  work  of  the  camp  and  upon  the  trail,  and 
mad  5  them  handsome  pecuniary  and  other  compensa- 
tion in  addition. 

Brave  boys!  boys  of  ability!  boys  kind  of  heart! 
boys  willing  and  obliging!  faithful  boys!  thy  many 
letters  of  kindly  appreciation  and  praise  of  the  past 
awaken  old  associations  and  thy  oft  expressed  regrets 
at  being  compelled  to  exchange  the  happy  experiences 
and  pleasantries  and  generous  compensation  of  the 
sportsman's  camp  for  the  labor,  drudgery  and  little 
pay  of  the  logging  camp,  touch  a  responsive  chord,  and 
thy  touching  appeals  for  the  renewal  of  old  time  adven- 
tures and  pleasure.^  are  sadly  pathetic— but  the  die  is 
cast,  the  Kubicon  is  passed,  the  pitcher  is  broken  at 
the  fountain,  and  henceforth  our  mocassins  will  leave 
their  imprint  in  other  lands,  our  paddles  will  vex 
other  waters,  and  the  erafk  of  our  rifles  will  echo 
and  re-echo  in  other  wilds. 

The  "give  more"  policy  for  the  already  overpaid — 
the  demand  that  visiting  sportsmen  must  assist  in 
policing  the  state — is  now  clothed  with  all  the  formality 
of  law,  and  the  mailed  hand  of  avarice  thus  raised  is 
an  effectual  barrier  to  deter  and  repel. 


'  1    A 


'I    'i'l 


454  Gathbrbd  Waiflbts. 

Good-by,  old  o«mp,  good-by.  .^.    ^, 

Thy  hallowed  walls  that  once  throbbed  with  the 
warmth  and  geniaUty  of  life  are  now  «  still  w  death 
and  as  cold  and  damp  as  the  tomb  of  the  Capn  ets.  The 
snows  of  winter  now  cover  thee  as  with  a  pall  and  the 
silence  of  the  charnel  house  reigns  in  the  surrounding 
wilderness;  undisturbed  and  unrebuked  the  porcupiiie 
may  burrow  underneath  thy  walls,  the  weasel  and  the 
fisher  may  make  a  playground  upon  thy  roof  and  the 
timid  deer  and  lordly  moose  may  browse  unheeded 
upon  thy  doorsteps. 

Since  the  day  when  the  Solons,  wise  in  their  conceit, 
or  who  may  have  perchance  surrendered  their  convic- 
tions and  better  judgment  to  the  importumty  and  dom- 
ination  of  others,  set  new  metes  to  the  stranger  withm 
thy  gates,  thy  latch-string  has  been  unused  and  no 
lamp  fire  has  been  lighted  upon  thy  hearth;  thy  mute 
protests  against  the  injustice  of  the  times  has  been 
unavailing  and  thy  many  appeals  for  old  time  adven- 
tures and  pleasures  are  unheeded. 

Alas!  old  camp,  thou  hast  fallen  upon  unhallowed 
days  and  thy  timbers  are  condemned  to  premature 
Sy-a  Biient  monument  to  the  legal  enactments 
lade  to  meet  and  mend  "a  condition  and  not  a 

%°hT  old  records  tell  of  seasons  of  adventure,  days  of 
triumph,  laughter  provoking  episodes  and  long  winter 
e"g  spe't  in  roystering  pleasures  with  compan- 
ions  tried  and  true-and  these  lend  a  charm  to  the 
tec  ing  past  and  tell  of  a  place  where  sweetest  mem- 
oneT^U  ever  cluster  and  delightful  remimscences  wiU 
ever  And  an  abiding  home. 


TRtvog  Wmb  and  Othmwisk.  455 

Paraphrasing  the  words  of  the  poet:— 

We  may  try  to  forget  the  log  camp  if  we  will, 
But  loving  old  memories  wUl  cling  to  it  still. 
Good-by,  old  camp,  good  by. 

(As  we  understand  it,  Dr.  McAIeer  does  not  like 
Maine's  license  for  non-resident  sportsmen,  but  does 
like  our  guides.— Ed.)  Maine  Woods,  Dec.  18,  1903. 


THINGS  WISE  AND  OTHERWISE. 


"A  little  nonsense  now  and  then 
Is  relished  by  the  best  of  men." 

THEEE  are  places   where  game    abounds  that 
are  shown  on  no  sportsman's  chart;  there 
are  ways   and   means   for  its   capture   not 
laid  down  in  sportsmen's  publications. 

One  such  place  came  under  r.iy  observation  and  one 
such  method  was  brought  to  my  attention  some  years 
since  when  jacking  deer  was  considered  good  form  and 
had  legal  sanction.  The  place  still  exists,  and  as  the 
method  is  somewhat  novel  and  not  likely  to  materially 
aid  in  the  extermination  of  devr,  with  or  without  legal 
sanction,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  making  it  public  now 
with  attending  incidents  and  experiences. 

Deer  Bog— that  is  the  place— but  you  will  look  in 
vain  for  it  on  any  map,  or  in  the  advertisement  of  any 
camp-owner  whose  seductive  words  are  often  the  net 


iORJISV-^' 


f  I 


\v\ 


450  Gathkrbd  Waiflbts. 

to  catch  the  dollars  of  the  tenderfoot   and   unwary 

^CrB°o«.-deer  bog.-rather  a  fetching  najne.  eht 
-and  one  Ukely  to  recall  many  stirring  adventures  of 

TelllerTit  was  one  night  in  the  rapidly  lengthen 
in^y ears  agone  that  two  noble  bucks  paid  the  penalty 
of  over  curiosity  or  over  confidence,  or  both. 

The  place!-oh.  yes!  but  I  crave  to  be  e:.oused  if  I 
a  Jnot  morV  Bpecifil-it  is  up  in  Canada  in  the  Megan- 
t^Country-off   toward   the   Boundary   Mountains 

ack  Boy  e  Uves  up  that  way-Jack  has  made  many 
ttso  exploration  and  discovery-and  the  location 
of  Deer  Bog  is  one  of  his  secrets  that  I  do  not  feel  at 

"t^  ;:on::f  the  many  verifications  of  the  old  adage 
whic  .ay.  that  "valuable  goods  are  done  up  in^maU 
marcels  "  He  is  well  versed  in  woodcraft,  wilhng, 
chee  ul  companionable;  he  can  carry  a  heavy  pack, 
rp:imaster^fpadd.and2"---t^^^^^^ 
r  sLryrrp  bl!rt  ^  woods^and  to  inm 
I  refer  the  reader  ao  the  proper  sign  post  to  po.nt  the 
way  more  definitely  to  Deer  Bog. 

^"^  r  ""^  °n^"orgto^  n^-he'd 

r::ron!nK  we  .t  forth  upon  ^^^;^- 
the  mountains  to  take  advantage  of  the  ope™ng^ 
the  Deer  season  in  Canada,  ^^Pt'^f  "^'.  ^  friendly 


Thihos  Wieg  AND  Othbrwwb.  457 

our  arrival  at  the  club  honse  on  Spider  Lake  several 
honrs  beyond  the  time  planned.  Here  we  Imrned  that 
another  party  had  gone  up  Spider  river,  where  we 
had  planned  to  go;-but  Jack,  to  use  an  expressive 
modern  colloquialism,  always  has  "something  up  his 
sleeve"  for  emergencies,  and  to  please  and  bring  suc- 
cess to  his  employer. 

To  this  seeming  untoward  yet  fortuitous  circum- 
stance IS  due  my  introduction  to  Deer  Bog  and  the 
possession  of  two  noble  bucks  weighing  respeotivelv 
205  and  240  pounds. 

Journeying  from  the  club  house  several  miles  by 
water  and  team  we  at  length  drew  rein  at  the  log  cabin 
of  an  habitant  near  the  edge  of  the  woods.  As  he  could 
speak  no  English,  I  was  about  to  polish  up  my  very 
limited  knowledge  of  parlez  vous  Francois  and  start  it 
going  at  him,  when  the  very  unusual  sight  of  a  win- 
some Canadian  lass  with  auburn  hair  and  hazel  eves 
appeared  upon  the  scene  and  accosted  us  in  English. 
I  noticed  that  her  cordiality  was  not  that  of  a  stranger] 
and  that  for  Jack,  at  least,  the  place  might  be  both 
dear  and  deer  bog,  and  a  possible  explanation  of  his 
interest  in  the  locality. 

But  Jack  is  married  now  and  this,  as  the  novelist 
says,  is  another  story. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  and  we  had  yet  a  couple 
miles  to  travel  on  foot  through  the  wootls— some  of 
the  distance  over  an  old  portage  road  and  some 
through  swamp  and  dense  undergrowth.  The  horse 
having  been  cared  for,  and  telling  her  our  errand,  we 
took  our  departure  for  the  adventure  of  the  night  at 
the  bog,  accompanied  by  her  oft  repeated  e.xpression 
of  good  wishes  for  our  success  and  safe  return. 


1      i 


45g  Gathkrbd  Waiklbts. 

Arriving  after  a  hurried  walk,  which  induced  pro- 
fuse per.piration.  at  our  destination  in  the  rapidly 
deep«lg  twiUght.  Jack  Bought  his  old  dug-out  where 
it  had  been  safely  cached  since  the  previous  season 
and  dragging  it  over  the  yielding,  mossy  surface  of  the 
^g,  welfunched  it  upon  the  water.    A  few  yards  back 
was  what  appeared  to  be  a  flag  pole  standing  upright 
Tn  !hl  bog.  Tack  was  somewhat  puzzled  and  troubled 
about  this  and,  in  answer  to  my  If  ««»""«•  ^^J^^^' 
thought  that  someone  must  have  ^^^^'^f'^'^^l 
of  the  way  and  favorite  place  of  his,  and  had  been 
:Imptng  here,  and  that  the  pole  was  probably  erected 

^"we'sTof  i  two  noble  bucks,  the  Umit  allowed  by 
law,  "biled  the  kittle,"  improvised  a  heUor  for  the 
St,  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  tired  and  successful 

''w"e  earliest  dawn  we  started  out  for  the  team 
ani  assistance  to  bring  out  the  game.  Arnving  at 
the  cabin  the  daughter  wa..  surprised  and  delighted 
wten  told  of  our  succe.s»,  which  to  appear  gallant  we 
It'ributed  very  laiK^.y  to  her  goo.1  wishes  for  our  suc- 

^^Tiif  ;=";r  ::Liu,ous  at .. ..  ^^ 
--^t^?:r^^:^o-r;t--^^i 

daush.er  as  rapidly  interpreted. 

"m    fader,  he  wants  to  know  if  you  got  dose  decres 

''^.B!'L?-oh!  yes,-we  jacked  them,"  I  replied, 
when  the  meaning  of  her  question  dawned  upon  me. 


Thinos  Wwk  and  Othkrwtise.  459 

This  being  told  to  him  .eemed  to  increase  his  sur 

oetween  all  the  members  of  the  household. 

The  interpreter  resumed  her  task  with-"My  fader 
he  says  you  are  big  hunter  fer  sure.  He  go  on  same 
place  some  tarn,  den  some  more  tam.  den'^mo™  Um 
apn,  and  he  hang  him  light  on  pole  and  stay  all  night 
and  no  deers  come.    No,  no,-for  sure  " 

anv?.?'  '""T"''  ""'  lanternf-and  did  he  whistle 
anyT     I  inquired. 

'•We  haf  only  one  lantern,  but  I  don't  know  about 
whistle  him.    1  will  ask  my  fader  bout  dat  " 

haiti:  ;r  ""'^ '''  '^"''•"'- '''"'"'"''  ""•»  '^--'' 

hn'.^^i/^'''"  !u^' ''"" ""  ^"'"^-  «*  '"y  y°»  know 

bout  all  dose  thing  for  get  deeres,  and  will  you  tell 
him  all  bout  fire  way  lak  one  big  frien'  " 

"Won  you  tell  your  father  he  must  get  another  Ian- 
tern  an.l  put  up  another  pole  opposite  the  one  now 
there,  aiul  fastern  a  lantern  high  up  on  each  pole  He 
must  th,.n  get  in  his  canoe  and  take  his  place  mid-way 
between  them  and  whistle  a  jig  or  other  lively  dancing 
tune  occasionally.  You  know  deer  are  lively  and  jovial, 
and  have  a  good  ear  for  music.  Then  when  the  deer 
come  running  down  the  mountain  si.le  and  plunge  into 
the  water  looking  for  th,-  ,,msic.  he  can  get  a  good  shot. 
By  having  «  lantern  on  either  side  he  can  5oe  both  wv  ^  ^ 
which  will  double  his  chances  for  getting  In*,  irnm:.  " 

This  information  elevated  me  in  the  estimat-^u  of 
all  to  a  higher  level  as  a  mighty  hunter,  and  secuAd 
generoux  words  of  admiration,  praise  and  thanLs 

Just  then  Jack  announced  that  he  had  the  tea  t  ir 
readiness,  and  as  our  fire-hunting  friend  was  to  accom- 


'i 


1 1 


460  Gathebid  WAiriiTs. 

pany  him,  I  took  my  leave  and  pointed  the  toes  of  my 
mocoaains  toward  Spider  Lake,  where  Jack  overtook 
me  soon  after  I  reached  its  shore.  We  loaded  the  deer 
into  our  canoe  and  a  paddle  of  a  few  miles  landed  us  at 
the  Club  house  where  we  were  showered  with  heartiest 
congratulations  and  praise. 

I  have  never  heard  whether  or  not  our  "flre-hunt- 

ing"  friend  was  successful  in  getting  "deereit"  by  ray 

improved  method  of  jacking,  and  I  have  not  deemwi  it 

judicious  to  make  personal  application  to  ascertain. 

Land  and  Water,  October,  1904. 


HUNTING  BIO  GAME  IN  WINTER. 


OUB  party  of  four  persons  left  the  Hub  of  the 
Universe,  November  21,  for  ou.  annual  hunt- 
ing trip  for  big  game  in  the  woods  of  Maine. 
We  did  not  expect  nor  desire  to  kill  the  limit  allowed 
by  law,  but  thought  just  one  good  large  bull  moose  for 
each  would  do;  and  who  would  be  content  with  less, 
when  he  had  killed  other  large  game   in  abundance 
during  many  years.    To  place  the  matter  of  getting 
our  moose  beyond  all  reasonable  doubt,  we  planned 
to  go  into  the  very  heart  of  the  wilderness  of  Northern 
Maine  where  the  human  voice  is  seldom  heard  and  the 
human  form  is  seldom  seen. 

We  arrived  at  Presque  Isle  the  following  afternoon, 
where  we  were  met  by  our  head  guide  and  one  of  his 
assistants,  with  two  heavy  wagons,  drawn  by  teams  of 
four  horses  each,  to  transport  our  party  and  their  im- 


IN  TMt  NORTtlCRN    WILOS 


Ut^ri!"^%%^ 


, AROOSTOOtt 


COUNTXMAINEy 


THANK5CIVINC  DlNNER,N0VEMBEfl25l897* 

MENU 

PIMMBmON  (MnM.  -SOUP- 

CMICKEN  CUnBO  HUUICATAWNEr 

SWUKUlrRINCHAIII)  -FISH- 

FWrowOIIED   FLYCMAatM 

5F«t  WMAIM  rWCH  ^  INTHEFS' 

srUffED  DEER5  HEARTS 
BOIIED  CARIBOU  AND  Dtt({b  fO«CU[5 
IIWINSrtlNCMUIIIIMtt  -R0A5T5- 

5APPU  OFVtNISON.  LOMIOF  CARIBOU 
LARDED   CROOSt 
^  -VFCtrABLES- 

™''?5JJJK?  WliD^NPFRltD ONIONS 
MAINE  6Win  CORN     TOHAIOIS 

-KEII3HIS- 
CURRANr  JEllH:  CHiniBIHIniAUtll.MIAED 
HllllfAWOKtrsitKSniKE  SAuct 

-  M-iSFKT- 
(.INtfKbRlAUMINCLAND  APFLF  Mt 
tH0COLA)>  CKIAMb.KAI-JNS.  NUTS 

,  CMriE  !»  MrNTHL  ""   ""'eicAM 

f  WllllAMTIAHtEr  B0iT0K;HA53Jpfr,5  LAVLWAY 


MlC«OCOfY    ftCSOLUTUN    TIST   CHART 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


A     APPLIED  IM^GE 


1653   EosI   Mail   Sl'». 


Hunting  Bio  Game  in  Winter.  46i 

pedimenta  to  Wb  camps  on  Big  Machias  lake- 
McGowan  pond,  Clayton  lake.  Carr  pond  and  Portage 
lake  being  not  far  distant  and  accessible  from  the  n>Z 

Sdi"    ""  '"'"''  ""°*^-'^^  •""-  "-th  of  Mt 
Our  manager  and  host  informed  us  that  he  had  never 

while  cut  into  deepest  ruts  by  heavy  teaming  during 
the  fall  rams,  and  he  counselled  us  to  remain  over  nfZ 
where  we  were  and  start  in  the  early  morning  for  ou 
drive  into  the  wilderness  more  than  forty  miles  dis 
taut,  a    the  same  time  expressing  his  willingness  to 
drive  all  n.ght  if  we  so  preferred.    A  lodge  of  delibera 
tion  was  opened  and  the  pros  and  cons  debated     For 
a  time  It  seemed  settled  that  we  were  to  enjoy  the 
comforts  of  a  good  hotel  for  the  night,  when  the  exu- 
berant enthusiasm  of  some  members  of  the  party  for 
an  immediate  departure  prevailed,  and  at  3.30  o'clock 
m  the  afternoon  of  a  keen  winter's  day,  the  procession 
slowly  moved  out  upon  the  old  AUegash  road-the 
roughest  turnpike  and  woods  road  imaginable 

a  Castle  IIilI,  a  distance  of  only  eight  miles  from  the 
place  of  our  departure.  Here  the  party  divided,  the 
conservative  portion  remaining  over  night,  and  the 
more  ambitious  and  energetic  pushing  on  to  Ashland 
where  they  arrived  in  the  gray  dawn  of  morning  and 
into  camp  the  following  night,  where  they  were  joined 
by  their  companions  a  day  later. 

On  their  return  to  camp  after  the  first  day's  explore- 
tion,  enthusiasm  reigned  supreme.  Evidence  of  deer 
innumerable  had  been  encountered,  much  caribou  sign 
noticed,   and   three   moose   yards,   containing   seven 


462 


Gathered  Waiflbts. 


mooBe,  located.  No  deer  or  caribou  were  to  be  shot 
until  the  moose  had  been  secured,  and  as  the  ground 
was  covered  with  the  quality  and  quantity  of  fluffy 
snow  that  rejoices  the  heart  of  the  still  hunter,  why 
should  we  not  indulge  the  wildest  anticipations  for  the 
morrow. 

With  all  the  enthusiasm  of  schoolboys,  we  retired 
early,  impatient  for  the  coming  dawn.  Alas !  and  alas ! 
for  so  it  hath  been  and  will  be;  for,  verily,  anticipation 
and  disappointment  doth  often  travel  as  closest  com- 
panions. 

Long  before  day  we  were  aroused  from  sleep  by  a 
dreary,  dismal  storm  of  wind  and  rain  that  fell  upon 
the  camp  and  smote  our  hearts  as  would  the  mourn- 
ful notes  of  a  funeral  dirge. 

All  the  day  long  and  the  following  night  and  day, 
Jupiter  Pluvius  took  malicious  delight  in  tearing  great 
holes  in  his  largest  clouds,  and  made  us  close  prisoners 
in  camp.  While  every  one  sought  the  silver  lining,  yet 
every  effort  to  arouse  and  buoy  up  drooping  hope 
seemed  superlative  irony. 

But  Boreas  asserted  his  reign  during  the  second 
night,  and  morning  dawned  with  a  temperature  several 
degrees  below  zero,  and  a  crust  upon  the  snow,  which, 
under  the  trampling  foot,  made  a  noise  that  could  be 
heard  many  yards' away. 

To  hunt  for  moose  under  such  conditions  was  entire- 
ly out  of  the  question,  and  so  deer  and  caribou  were 
sought,  and  not  without  success,  although  the  condi- 
tions were  highly  unfavorable. 

At  the  end  of  the  week  a  severe  snowstorm  set  in 
and  all  turned  out  seeking  again  to  locate  the  monarchs 
of  the  forest   The  places  where  they  had  already  been 


HiNTi.vd  Bi„  Game  ix  'Wixtkr.  4(;.", 

located  wore  approached  with  utmost  caution  oulv 
to    find    tliat    th.y    had    souglit    shelter    elsewh.Te" 
proniptnife'  tlie  conclusion  tliat  witli  coniin-  wint-r  tliey 
had  depaiteil  to  their  permanent  winter  cpiarters  far 
up  some  mountain  si.le.    During  tlie  day  following  a 
fine  youns  bull  rewar.led  the  eflorts  of  one  of  our  partv 
and  this  proved  the  only  moose  killed  during  the  trip. 
They  had  evidently  gone  so  far  from  camp  that  thj 
guides  volunteered  to  go  in  pursuit  and  endeavor  to 
locate  them,  the  mend)ers  of  the  partv  to  remain  ahout 
camp  ami  kill  other  game.    Three  of  them  set  out,  the 
thermometer  bei.ig  7  degrees  below  zero,  taking  with 
them  only  their  ordinary  clothing,  rifles,  a  small  axe 
and  a  pack  containing  a  few  biscuits,  salt  pork,  a  tea- 
pot and  some  tea.    They  journeyed  over  mountain  peak 
and  through  swamps  of  densest  growth,  and  covered  a 
dozen  miles  when  they  halted  for  the  night.     Their 
frugal  meal  was  soon  disposed  of  and  then  began  the 
chopping  by  turns,  which  was  kept  up  all  night  to  pre- 
vent them  from  freezing.     By  a  different  route  they 
returned  to  the  camp  the  n.'xt  night  an.     .  ported  that 
no  moose  sign  had  been  discovered.    Two  of  the  guides 
made  another  unsuccessful  attempt  in  another  direc- 
tion, remaining  out  over  night,  the  thermometer  being 
10  degrees  below  zero.    But  as  severe  a  test  of  human 
endurance  as  came  under  our  observation  on  the  trip, 
and  one  seldom  equalled,  occurred  oiu-  day  wlien  one 
of  our  guides,  son  of  the  proprietor  of  the  camps,  went 
over    the    mountain    beyond    Big  Machias    lake    to 
McGowan  pond  on  a  moose  exploring  expedition.    He 
ascended  to  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  the  effort 
causi        bundant  perspiration,  and,  discovering  noth- 
ing, 1      descended  the  slope  nearest  to  camp,  hoping 


4,.4  (iATIlEKKD   WaIFLKTS. 

to  find  .ome  yarde.l  upon  that  ^ide  of  the  mountain, 
le  arrived  at  the  edge  of  BiK  Maclna.  r.vor   a    u  - 

tot  hrouKh  snow  fiftoon  inches  .U-ep.  and  yhen  he 
I'chl!  cai  he  could  step  hut  a  few  inches  at  a  tune, 
liU  eU)thing  being  frozen  stiff. 

^    t  o'    h^.  r  deserts.     Our  offaris  about  the  camp 
Xmr-^--Utions  resulted  in  kilUng  three 

i  caribou  and  four  splendid  buck  '1-- ;^-J;; 
the  bull  moose,  rounded  out  a  generous  « f"-;"™ 
anv  narty  of  sportsmen  might  be  proud;  >et   all 
:  L    hrle  of  our  four  big  moose  still  have  the.r  hou.e 
:n:me  moose  yard  upon  a  mountain  sule  .n  northen 

"'The'thought  of  this  will  stimulate  renewed  endeavo 
and  llSireVa-^t  anticipations  for  renewed  e.lve. 

'"Ll  yet  our  pleasure  was  not  limited  to  hardship 

and  the  slaughter  wrought  by  our  hands     Our  part 

1         .le  up  of  such  congenial  spirits,  w.th  whom  t 

f     .•        .t  life  are  naramount,  and  who  qmckly  tui 

?rt':^i:£^    our  camp-fire  burned  brightl 


IIlNTIN.i    H,0    (JaMK    IV    WiNTKK.  4,;:, 

but  not  los.,  briKiM  a„,l  cl ry  w.us  tl,..  n.|„(io„  of  tl„. 

«l.iy  s  observations  an.l  a.lvcntun.s-tb,.    witlv    s.,llv 
an,l  skillfnl  .vpart,.,.  tbat  „,a„y  tini.s  s.t  tb-  canmi',,,;, 

roars  of  Uu,„,„„,    Xo,  ,,,  tl„.  bi« ■  an,l  b..,„'.  ,os, 

1  .  tl„.  trivial  or  eonnMo„|,l„e,..    Tl„.  boautv  of  ,„.„•  aP,l 
-listant  mountain  raM«,.,  ,,„ak  tow..rin«  "  ab.nv    p.ak 
"'■t.l  lost  in  tb,.  .listanc.,.,  ,1,..  ,,„..„t  of  foivst  ,.,„bn,c- 
■ns  many  millions  of  aeivs  ri«bt  bor,.  in  V.w  KnHan.l 
...  nmrvolous  stillness  an,l  n.s.fuln.ss  of  tl„.  woo,Is' 
tlu-  magnihcenco  of  sprue,.  an,l  (ir,  cla,l  in  tb.ir  winter 
costume  of  snow  an,l  ice-bere  in  repousse,  tbere  in 
■ntaKln^liere  in  .lelioate  tracery,  tbere  as  if  ..own,.,l 
m  costliest  laees,  ami  .leeke.l  witb  Koi-eous  ,^,.ms  tbat 
reflected  every  rainbow  tint  of  passing  clou.l  on  tbe 
winters  snow;  tbe  clear,  brijfbt  an,l  braeimj  atmos- 
phere and  tbe  wealtb  of  golden  ligbt  of  tl„.  nortbern 
aurora  borealis  wbicb  surrounded  us  at  nigbt  and  ma,le 
It  seem  as  if  we  lived  in  an  enchant..,!  worbl  of  luminous 
beauty-all,  an,l  mucli  more,  ,.nhance,l  our  pleasures 
and  lent  an  a.l.led  charm  to  our  visit  to  tbe  woo.ls  in 
winter.     Nor  were  the  wants  of  tbe  pbysical  man  i-^- 
nored.     Our    bost    bas   coinfortabl,.    camps    for    hU 
guests,  abundantly  supplied  with  all  tbat  can  minister 
to  their  comfort,  and  be  is  tireless  in  promoting  tb,.ir 
success  and   pleasure.     His   commissarv   ,l,.partment 
and  cuisinc  deserve  special  mention,  for  tbev  are  so 
abundant  and  vari,.,l  as  to  satisfy  tbe  most  gen,.rous 
appetite  an,l  critical  tast,..    A  goo,l  i,lea  of  them  mav 
he  formed  by  the  spread  wbicb  be  provided  for  our 
rbanksgivang  dinner,  the  menu  of  which  is  given  bero- 
^ntb  in  the  accompanying  cut. 

It  was  emblazoned  upon  birch  bark  by  tbe  Artist 
of   tbe   party   and   accorded   a   prominent   place   in 


4c,(',  Gatiikuki)  WAiri.vns. 

the  center  of  tlie  table,  but  it  was  not  of  sufficient 
length  to  inclu.le  a  list  of  the  liquid  accessories, 
which,  doubtless,  woul.l  have  made  Neul  Dow  hlu>.h 
had  he  been  a  guest  at  the  Machi«s  Lake  Camps.— 
Worcester  Daily  Spy,  December  ■2-2, 18'Ju. 


VACATION  PLEASANTKIES. 


\i,  •'>■       > 


^l  i 


WE  srient  our  vacation  in  the  wilds  of  Maine. 
The  Di'ad  Kiver  was  assailed  by  our  pad- 
dles, an<l  the  surrounding  country  received 
the  impression  of  our  footsteps,  which  pointed  to  the 
famed  Seven  Pon.ls  region  and  over  the  Boundary 
Mountains  to  Spi.ler  Lake  in  Cana.la-the  territory 
inclu<led  in  the  famed  Megantio  preserve. 

Breaking  away  from  civilization,  we  -vere   free, 
from  the  conventionalities  of  city  life,  and  we  rejoiced 
in  the  quietness  and  restfulness  of  the  scene.    ^\  e  were 
charmed  by  the  blue  skies,  delightful  atmosphere    ■ 
clear,  rarefied,  and  health-giving;  an.l  the  water,  cold 
and  sparkling,  as  it  bursts  forth  in  living  springs, 
tasted  as  water  never  tasted  before;  the    ofty  moun- 
tain trees  bowed  as  if  in  welcome.    This  latter  is  not 
original  but  Homeric,  and  while  it  has  come  down  the 
centuries  from  the  darksome,  distant  past,  it  is  better 
than  mo.lerns  produce;  and  as  it  fits  our  case  exactly, 
I  hope  I  may  be  pardoned  for  using  it  hen      Timid 
deer  were  ciaily   companions   and   the   gamey  trout 
responded  to  our  tempting  flies.  Cabins,  clean  and  com- 
modious, tables  abundantly  supplied,  and  the  cheer 


Vacation  Pi.kasantkiks.  4,;: 

ami  ban  hommie  of  congenial  companions  left  notl.inir 
o  be  .lesired  in  making  our  munnu.r'8  outing  a  tin.,,  to 
be  (>.nbalnH..l  in  un.lying  memory.  But  a  surfeit  of 
good  tilings  soon  repels,  ami  the  .lolights  of  one  ,lnv 
are  pa.s.e  the  next,  ami  so  new  worlds  are  looked  fo"r 
to  explore  and  enjoy. 

Our  friends,  one  of  whom  is  a  disp,.nsor  of  the  -hul 
tuhngs  of  the  Divine  Law,  and  the  other  of  tlie  mixed 
quahty  of  the  human,  were  not  on  slaughter  bent,  an.l 
so  desired  variety  to  please  rather  than  nuantity  or 
mere  wantonness.  •* 

This  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  our  guide,  who  i« 
past  master  in  guiding  and  resources  to  pleas,,  pro- 
pose,! to  the  writ,.r  that  we  join  i„  „„  ..ffort  to  .nter- 
tain  our  frien,ls  one  night,  while  at  Crosby  Pon.l,  with 
an  evening's  fishing  for  "whitefish"  or  "vanlfish  " 
Ihis  met  with  ready  approval  on  their  part,"aii,l  tli,.v 
entering  with  zest  any  propose.l  new  a,lv,.nt,ue  l,,'.-' 
came  very  nwjuisitive  to  l,.arn  all  about  tli,.  sport. 

By  previous  arrangement  between  mvself  and  ..  .i,|,. 
they  had  been  entertained  by  stories  of  the  rare  fun  in' 
store  for  them,  and  th,.ir  interest  an,l  enthusiasm  were 
stimulated  by  the  fascinations  of  the  treat  vet  to  eon,,. 
In  answer  to  in,)uiries  they  wer..  told  that,  unlike  trout 
they  would  not  rise  to  the  fly,  that  tlu'v  ,li,l  not  liav,. 
scales  hke  other  fish,  that  th,.y  were  called  "whitefish" 
because  their  belUes  were  white,  and  "yanlfish"  b,.- 
cause  they  were  sometimes  measured  by  the  vard, 
that  they  were  caught  only  at  night  by  the  light"  of  a 
big  bonfire,  that  when  caught  on  a  light  fly-ro,l  thev 
afforded  tons  of  sport,  etc. 

Well,  the  evening  arrived  and  the    fireplace    was 
made  ready  near  the  edge  of  the  water,  on  the  front 


(iATllKKKl)    WaIVI.KTH. 


I! 


1,  of  a  rocky  Muff  vi.i"«  «!..■.•.•  ""t  <•''  "'"  1«'>">  -""" 

';'7'-':;';;;r-t:;i::;;::i:;:" 

tlunics  soon  liKl't*'*'  "1'         ;  ,  ,(,1,1  to  let 

'"itXuo-    rv..Kot  a  Intel"  telhthoBtory  that 

""litWt-     I'vo  sot  hoW  of  the  bottom  of  tl. 
"(,.H.at  Scott.    1       ;,.„,!    ()U,mynmtaou'l 

111  111,     there' — I've  lost  mm! 
ho  imll!  t)U— tlurt       i  peculiar  am 

.Uon  came  another  outburst  ^ 

"There  he  goes  again!    hec  mm  i,o, 
yimminy,  he  pulls  as  hard  as  a  pony  ^^  ^^^^^^^^^^ 

,5r;r:^^«:-^^t:teatheannonncemer 
S:V::;\he  contest,  ana  woras^ —--- 
— a::ri::Sr^-e-eehoeathebo^ 

*"n"'nrNTo  of  Uncle  Izaak,  the  gentle  teacher 
,orras!;e-/nervous  and  impatient  at  his  CO 


By 


\"a<-ati..n  IVkasantrik-.  ^,.,, 

panion'«   ,uec..s.   ,„,i   l„.e«us,.   tl„.   "wl,it,.|UI,"    r 

^  p;;j^-,::r-:,::-:::r;;:;-: 

itH  iin,i,„tio  ..s,  u„;,,i  ;,;:'"'■"■'■;:  "•■" "" •  '■- 

~:?r;,=T;;,«r::r:,'irt;::! 

i;;:::i:*;;:!;ri: ""»•  ■'--■"' 

i-,;-';„-- "-."n..:*;;;:;:,':;,r;r 

.S,Si,r,~;;;r;;r;::;;:;; '--.. 

./f—tS;,;'.';''"!*:,  :'■■'■';■'' ""  ""•« ■ 


M0N(  .TONY  1  HAT  18  NOT  MONOTONOUS. 


T„E  „„n,,,.n..l  on,.,  in  tU..  citu.«  .....!  tl,..  frivolous 
o,„.H  of  tl.r.  fusliionaWf  r.'Hort 

u.  ..  of  tU..   viUl-rn....  an.l  in  tho  t..n,lern..ss  of  t      r 
'"i;"n.  an  unpromising  task  to  undertake  the  worl 

:Si    r«:liofbiras,.Uoaa.„iretJ.n.^ 
:  0 Jn  monarchs  of  the  forests,  and  the.r  t.m.d  Mk 

?^r  and  feather,  and  who  go  to  sleep  on  beds  of  mcea 
tur  and  ^j^    jjj^gjg  ^f  t 

breathing  spruce  and  tir,  luiiea  uy 


l!       f 


Movorovv  THAT  ,s  v„.r  Arn.vor„v.„.s.         4-, 

=r::;;;!::-:-:-^^^^      

•."''ir :  :;;::;r,r'7'r-"''' ''"-"■^'" 

-■■-■r;;:;\;\i:;;::;;:n::;;:;::' ;;;:•:-" ■•, 

;;'-':■"  ":-"^- "■ -^ii:::! ;:::::;::; 

cml-nc  of  tl„.  .IrowMv  1„„„  of  ,|„.  ,„     .,•','    "' ' 
■"-'otononsly  „po„  ,1,..  ,,,,,    „,.   ,  ' '    .       ,' "*""'*.■";' 

;;^;"^ini...,i.,,,.„i,,,,,.,,,,..;\^;;-.,-;-j 

onv  of  a  «„„„,„„„„  with  ,„.■  sri„  „f  Monn.s    w|      . 

"=-s;:;:-,=;:tLS;;;=;r-- 

tops   ,lu.  splaslnnK  of  watw,  „,„|  ,|„.  ,„„,„,,,  „f 
i"  tow<.n„K  .Mountains  in  tho  .listanc  con,,.  L  111 

to  tl„.  woary  m,n,l,  wl„.„  H.H.tly  interpret,.,!   , 

|.~of,l,..i,,,ttoalUvlK,wor,l,ilvco  J", 
::;;r '.'"'"/"  "f~    Tl-.M,iv,.,,in«n;on,.tonv:. 

M.mMK'.  flash,  a„,l  th,.  p.al  on  p,.„l  of  orashins  th      - 

W  that  snnfs  tho  oarth  with  its  fn^htfnl  vohn,; 

r  verb,.rat.on  upon  reverberation,  has  that  in  it  whiel, 
the  word  n,onotony  does  not  limit  nor  define.  The  ter 
r-fjang  monotony  of  the  breath  of  the  tornado  that  fans 


472  Gathered  Waiklets. 

Trlls   dartins  Psh'^«  and  babbling  brooks     AU  tbes< 
tbey  appeal  to  ^J^J  ^^^j^^  ,,„„,,do„,,  of  the  ^^-ildei 

Sportsman,  1896. 


OUK  SUMMER'S  OUTING. 


THE  dog-Btar  ushered  in  ^''If  n*™"/"'^^' 
genial  spirits  took  counsel  how  best  to  ev 
his  torrid  embrace.    Scant  deUberation  . 
.as  nece'rary  to  decide  upon  a  trip  to  the  Meg. 

nreserve  in  northwestern  Maine. 

"  '  iTote  for  the  route  via  Eustis,"  said  one,    bee 


'because 


Our  Scmmer's  Oi-Tr.vo.  4;., 

If    •     V    ri.le  in  tho  evpning  from  th,.  Dca.l  River 

While  chansiiiff  horses."  ^"I'lm 

"Well,  I  vote  for  a  ride  over  a  smooth  roa<I  anv 
Pieasant  eveni,,.,  in  summer,  an,]  I  an,  sure  a  .00, 
^pper  sarnhviel..,  in  wouM  make  it  „oublv  atU  .! 

trip  to  the  Dead  River  an,l  Seven  Ponds  region 

to  deter  giving  his  reasons  therefor  until    ater     A 
major,  y  having  already  signifie,,  their  preferoiL;  ut 
rema,„ing  two  members  of  the  partv  ^raeefX    n 
dorsed  the  choice  of  the  others,  and  «.:  pro,"    J  Ja," 
made  a  reality  August  4th,  when  a  jolly  pa'rtv  0    ^v" 

E.,st,s,  soon  after  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening 
The  sun  rose  grandly  over  the  su.nmit   of  Mount 

aden  buckboards  took  their  departure  by  that  heaveni; 
tote  road  located  along  the  Dead  river  for  the  camps  o"f 
the  Club  at  the  Chain  of  Ponds.  While  in  transit 
along  tins  matchless  tl,oroughfare  the  third  meniber 
of  the  party  to  give  his  preference  for  this  route  be-^an 
in  a  monotone  an<l  with  grave  deliberation : 
"About,  above,  across,  after,  against,  alon--" 
"And  what  now?"  interrupted  one,  his  look  of  aston- 
ishment adding  force  to  the  infjuiry. 

"Amid  or  amidst,  among  or  amongst,  around,  at, 
athwart,  before,  behind,  below,  beneath,  beside  or 
besides,  between,  betwixt,  beyond",— 


474 


Gathered  Waiflets. 


1        ! 


"I  say  there, "-"Hold  on  there, "-"What  are  you 
giving  us  now? "-shouted  three  at  one  time. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  delighted  to  think  we  came  this  wayl 
That  list  of  prepositions  was  the  terror  of  my  school- 
boy days;  and  for  the  life  of  me  I  have  not  been  able 
to  repeat  them  since  my  last  trip  over  this  road.  Just 
listen  and  see  how  naturally  they  come-overyone  sug- 
gested by  the  heaving  and  pitching  of  the  buokboard- 
by,  concerning,  down,  during,  except,  excepting,^  for^ 
from,  in,  into  (there,  by  gracious  1)  of,  on,  over, 
under  (didn't  I  tell  you  so!)  underneath,  until,  into, 
up,  upon,  with,  within,  without,— " 

"Hold  holdl"—" Throw  him  overboard!  —  J^ut  a 
wet  handkerchief  on  his  headl"-and  with  oat  calls 
and  groans  the  scholar  was  squelched. 

But  even  tote  roads,  rivalling  the  billows  of  an  angry 
ocean  in  roughness,  have  an  end,  though  their  miles 
of  generous  length  may  be  shortened,  as  in  this  case, 
by  the  give  and  take  of  genial  comradeship.  The 
Megantic  lares  et  penates  at  the  Chain  of  Ponds  soon 
broke  pleasantly  upon  our  vision,  and  not  long  after 
five  hungry  mortals  were  doing  full  justice  to  its  ample 

"ds  were  soon  assembled,  the  waters  assailed  and 
as  a  result  toothsome  trout  graced  the  table  at  the 
evening  meal.  A  good  night's  rest,  followed  by  a 
savorj  wood's  breakfast,  and  the  Indian  Stream  trail 
was  taken  over  Snow  mountain  for  our  camp  at  Bis 
Island  Pond,  which  was  reached  soon  after  mid-day 
Ete  ytWng  U  been  put  to  rights  about  The  Wigwan 
to  receive  us,  and  it  never  before  presented  a  mor, 
attractive  appearance.  An  inviting  looking  packag 
:;ood  upon'he  table  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  an, 


OfR    SumMKr's    Ol'TING.  ^-r 

emblazoned  upon  the  wrapper  was  this  legend-  '"Wiih 
tile   comphments   of   The   Buncalow  •'   !. 

Oh!  black  fly  lotion...  ,,o„t,,,„„,,,^^ 
^J^ustso.buta.n.titn.ightyki„dofthe,nr.shouted 

The  "loti  n'.  p  o"";:^  r:r  ;•" ""  "'■■''"'■ 

record  the  sentiment  of  Z  "'  '"^'  '"^''^  ''" 

-n:-..„ere.s  tTThf  iStr ™"^  '^  '"^  ^"- 

-^.weres:-:s:':;;-rd-r 

stay,  but  I  believe  a  greater  number  were  at  Bii.  t1 

every  convenience'lS'^ac    t"  mrC""l 
enjoyment  of  members  and  their  gL        an^M        "" 
thoughtful  acts  of  kindness  andC:;:i       '  Zi:' 
to  them  by  the  steward  and  his  wife     We  were  fn! 

«i.htf„i  weather,  the  air  b.n;:;::::;'cSr; 

The  trout  did  not  rise  well  to  the  flv  at  Ri<,  T,i      i 
pond  but  in  L,  Grant,  and  Big  Nor^l^t  ^'e ^  Cd 
excellent  fly  fishing.  Some  of  our  party  caugh     and 
locked  salmon  i„  Big  Islan.l  pond,  with  whicT  it  "a  ,' 
been  recently  stocked,  the  largest  of  which  measu 
eighteen  inches.    They  were  all  returned  to  the  wate 


J 


476 


Gatiikred  Waiflets. 


liH, 


1     I 


llH^ 


Deer  were  «een  in  -f  erable  ^,n.ber.  but  not  a. 

eall  upon   -"-/;'   f  ,,, f^i„„tes;  aiu.  now  The 
in  one  hour  and  Mt\-tuui   u  „      \fr    H    S. 

WiKwam  clauns   championship  lK.nor..     Mr.   H.   h 
\\^^«^  Y^^j^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  record,  and  the 

Tf  The  WiKwam  will  gladly  make  a  match 

owners  of  ^J^  J^R^^ "  j      i^.t,  ^amps  at  Big 

between  any  owner  or  owulih  u    i  ^^ 

Island  to  heat  this  record  or  t^^f^;'^^  .j,,,„d 
between  owners,  and  wd  name  Mr^S—-   o        ^^^ 

their  title  to  the  "^'^^P'^^^^P-^^td  to  the  Clubhouse 
our  vacation  ended  he  was  ^-^-^fj^^^^,,^,  f,om 
on  Spider  Lake  in  Canada  to  meet  some  ir 

Kew  York,  and  ^^^y^^^^/^XX^^:  Zm  of 
fir":"-ar::^-":rsenttments.^ 

a  scroll  of  birch  bark  as  follows :— 

inter  sylvestras  feras  nnae  m  ^  i„ 

Imperii  eamdam  syeramus. 


Our  Summer's  OrTi.vo.  47; 

A  PARTING  WORD. 

I  wish  ye  well,  ye  Sachems  hold. 

Who  made  me  place  beside  your  fire, 

And  nave  ivhat  uisemen  must  desire 

And  deem  more  worth  than  Klondike's  gold- 

liririht  eyes,  ch^-  head,  and  heart  at  rest 

With  love  of  friends,  the  truest,  best, 

Because  they  are  the  manliest. 

I  wish  ye  years  and  trips  a  score; 

Hay  The  Wigwam's  witchery  always  grow 

And  keep  hearts  green  though  heads  have  snow 

And  memories'  joy  be  mor-  and  more. 

May  the  pains  of  life  that  will  come  each  year 

Be  forgot  when  The  Wigwam  holds  you  here. 

And  the  wood's  1  reath  leave  on  your  cheek  no  tear. 

These  sentiments  and  kind  wishes  were  lettered  upon 
an  elegant  sheet  of  white  birch  l)ark,  handsomely 
framed  in  a  rustic  frame,  and  accorded  a  prominent 
place  on  the  wall  to  awaken  old-time  remembrances  and 
to  give  added  cheer  and  pleasure  to  future  visits  to 
The  Wigwam  in  the  wilderness.-J/aiwe  Sportsman 
September,  1897. 


EYES  THAT  SEE  AND  EABS  THAT  HEAR. 


THE  g\ves  of  winter  are  still  upon  tlic  lake  anil 
the  "noisy  stream  is  silenced  under  his  cruel 
restraint;  the  distant  mountain  peak  glitters 
in  the  sun  and  the  trail  lies  hidden  by  its  mantle  of 

snow.  .  ... 

The  varied  pursuits  of  life  impose  thoir  galling 
chains  upon  the  lovers  of  the  beautiful  in  nature,  and, 
while  thev  are  denied  the  pleasures  of  a  sojourn  in 
their  accustomed  haunts,  they  may  indulge  a  malicious 
.leli-ht  when  they  consider  that  even  nature  itself  has 
to  pay  tribute  to  inexorable  law  of  restraint  and  veil 
her  manifold  attractions. 

But  the  forces  of  spring  are  gathering  and  the  cro«-n 
of  flame  upon  the  maples  and  the  gossamer  bannerets 
upon  the  willows  betoken  the  multitude  of  the  oncoming 
host  whose  successful  smiting  will  drive  winter  from 
his  throne,  liberate  the  lake,  and  make  the  nvers  sing 
a  iovful  refrain  of  -victory. 

Our  man  of  business  may  well  pray  for  the  interven- 
tion of  some  kindly  goddess  to  break  the  chain  that 
binds  him  to  the  cares  of  life  and  afford  him  an  oppor- 
tunity to  join  in  the  tuneful  melody-and  to  enable  him 
trspend  his  vacation  days  where  is  found  the  flood  tide 
of  pleasure  as  it  is  found  nowhere  else-in  the  free- 
dom, contemplative,  restful   silence   and   abstemious 

life  of  the  woods.  , .  , 

For  him  who  has  for  years  pitched  his  camp  and 


Eves  that  See  and  Eaus  that  Hkar  47,, 
built  his  carapfirc  on  the  shore  of  some  l.eantif,.!  Inke 
in  the  depths  of  the  forest  far  from  the  abo.le  of  ,na„ 
we  do  not  write.  No  assen.bh,Ke  of  words,  however 
wel  chosen,  no  sentences  however  sn.ooth  and  heauli- 
ful  the  .hction  or  fascinating  the  cliarm,  are  needed  to 
onsage  h.s  interest  or  stinndate  his  enthnsiasm. 

AVe  fa.n  wonld  write  a  line  to  encourage  those  who 

ave  never  yet  con,,,  within  the  kin.lly  influencs  o^ 

the  woods  nor  experiencl  some  of  their  n.any  charms, 

«l.eh  abonnd  npon  every  hand  and  are  as  different 

and  vaned  as  tlie  incHnations  an.l  tastes  of  visitors 

The  contemplative  and  sentimental  see  the  towering 
mountains  joining  the  horizon  by  .Graceful,  un.lulating 
outhnes;  tlie  virgin  forest  majestic  in  its  silence,  the 
melody  of  the  mountain  brook  an,I  the  repose  of  the 
Placd  lake;  the  curling  smoke  from  the  pri.nitive  camp- 
tire  and  the  savory  odors  emanating  therefrom:  the 
tunefnl  note  of  feathered  songsters  an.l  the  weird  note 
of  he  elusive  loon;  tlie  scudding,  fleecy  cloud  and  the 
arching  dome  of  heaven  over  all-all  are  the  accordant 
notes  awakened  upon  the  lyre  of  nature  bv  the  hands  of 
Omnipotence  whose  cliords  .jnicken  the  heart  and  lift 
the  listener  above  the  meaner  things  of  life. 

Bays  of  golden  sunshine  shoot  through  the  sombre 
treetops  and  dance  fantastic  dances  beneath  our  foot- 
steps, weaving  and  unweaving,  with  the  lights  and 
shades  as  warp  and  woof,  a  gilded  tapestrv,  which 
gives  added  welcome  to  the  visitor  while  rendering 
more  beautfiul  the  mosses  and  lichens,  and  anon 
gilding  the  trembling  leaf  and  gnarled  trunk  with  its 
most  brilliant  but  transient  rays. 

Thankful  should  he  be  wlio  is  permitted  to  enter  the 
holy  place  and  come  within  such  influences-leaving 


M  i 


^y,,  GathbRed  Waiklets 

...  ,o,»»  or-^  f'l r.rr—  -'■""• 

think  thoughts  and  experience  sensations  that  hft 


FROM  LITTLE  MUCH. 
So  Near  and  Yet  So  Fab. 

MOST  of  the  ,.xi....u.,.cofi  written  out  by  sports- 
men for  publication  are  limited  to  the  success 
Achieved  with  rod  and  s""  ""'1  «">  P''-'^^"'^'^^ 

't:'ntr iHssert  that  many  who  have  pitched 
their  camp  near  the  summit  of  ^"^  t"^-.""^^  T""; 
tain  peak,  or  built  their  campfire  m  the  -Jt"f  ^^h^^ 
^Hlderness.  or  cast  the  seductive  fly  on  ruffled  lake,  or 


From  Little  Much  4gi 

sent  the  ruthless  messengers  of  death  after  fleetinjf 
fur  and  feathered  game,  have  cherished  memories  of 
peculiar  and  unlooked-for  experiences,  possibly  disap- 
pointments, hair-breadth  escapes,  and  a  thousand  and 
one  adventures  and  incidents  which  seldom  get  beyond 
the  circle  of  most  intinuite  friends,  but  which,  never- 
theless, are  prized  memories  above  and  beyond  their 
greatest  success  in  mere  killing. 

At  the  time  many  of  these  appear  trivial  and  of  so 
httle  consequence  as  to  make  no  particular  in.pre.ssion 
upon  the  min.l,  but  after  we  return  *o  the  tread-mill  of 
every  day  life  to  grind  the  same  old  Mrist  over  and  over 
again,  they  assume  a  new  hue  in  the  warp  and  woof 
of  our  outing  and  add  color  nn,l  variety  to  the  beauti- 
lul  mosaic. 

Just  now,  when  Boreas  blows  his  cruel  blast,  when 
hoi  y  and  mistletoe  adorn  the  homes  of  our  land,  when 
tables  groan  under  the  load  of  the  mnnv  good  things 
prepared  for  the  Yuleti.le  season,  mv  thoughts  go  back 
a  twelvemonth  to  a  Midwinter  adventure  and  a  dinner 
in  the  wilderness  of  Northern  Maine  when  the  ther- 
mometer registered  several  degrees  below  zero. 

Reed's  Big  Machias  Lake  Camps,  at  which  we  made 
headquarters,  are  located  about  a  mile  from  the 
Machias  river  about  three  miles  from  where  it  leaves 
Its  birthplace.  Big  Machias  lake.  Here  genial  compan- 
ionship, success,  good  cheer  and  the  comfort  and  cui- 
sine of  our  camp  made  the  days  and  weeks  fly  alto- 
gether too  swiftly  away  for  our  party  of  four. 

Several  pages,  generous  though  they  be,  would  not 
be  adequate  to  record  in  outline  the  haps,  mishaps 
successes  and  adventures  of  the  trip,  so  I  will  but  at- 


483 


i      I 
i      I 


Gathkrku  Waiklbth. 
"It  to  doBoribo  briefly  th<.  incidont.  in  tl.o  loast  inv 

,vood.  ^^lan  alter  u     b  ^^_^^_^  ,^^_^^^  j^^  „j, 

thp  monarch  oi  the  loithi  i"  '"=  _„„,i,,  fnr 

tho  trail  as  soon  as  it  is  ligm  f  uo  b 

"T.':';:i"hu  *.ri., »- «-  -'',« •  ¥::: 


Kkom  Littlk  .Mich  4g;( 

UKfavorublc  coiulitiun  of  tl.c  woatlu-r   to   r..nmi.,    i„ 

Tliose  only  «l,o  Imvo  boon  compcll,.,!  to  n.iuuin  in 
camp  can  upprociato  the  nionofony  of  killing  tini.. 
tlR.re.n;  an.l  doubly  irkncn,.  is  .t  «iu.n  you  tliink  «l,at 
valued  trophies  may  n.ward  the  eff.  ts  of  your  less 
eJleminate  com|)aiiions. 

The  niorning  Kra.lually  wore  „way.  the  cold  grew 
more  u.tense,  an.l  the  Makes  of  snow  ^rew  sn.alle,  ard 
more  ndrequent,  until  the  sickly  rays  of  the  sun 
revealed  none  in  the  frosty  air. 

''Com,.,-  sai.l  my  frieml  Farley,  "let  us  Ret  readv 
«nd  take  a  turn  out,  I  can't  stand  this  inactivitv  any 
lonjfer."  •       ■' 

''It  is  a  unanimous  vote,"  I  replie.l,  and  soon  our 
feet  were  warmly  dr..sse,l  in  two  pairs  of  verv  h,.avv 
woolen  stockings  and  i,,l,l,.,,.  overshoes,  such  as'lumhe;- 
'•'«■»  wear.  For  bodil>  clothinR  we  put  on  but  little 
>»ore  If  any,  than  would  he  won,  by  men  out  Kuimin- 
anywhere  m  the  Xorthen  States  in  early  autumn.  " 

Carrying  nmmnnition  and  a  heavy  rifle,  together 
with  hatcli..t,  blanket,  foo.l,  teapot  and  other  neces- 
saries,  with  feet  heavily  lade,,  an.l  wallowing  in  deep 
snow,  the  bloo<l  is  soon  sent  coursing  through  the  bo.lv 
bestowing  abundant  war.nti,  without  the  adjunct  of 
heavy  clothing. 

We  starte<l  out  an<I  noticed  tlie  faint  tracks  ma,l.. 
by  the  others— now  nearly  blotted  out  by  the  drifting 
snow— and  took  an  opposite  direction  along  the  ok' 
tote  road  leading  to  Big  Machias  lake  and  bevond' 
The  snow  was  very  deep  and  our  progress  very  slow  ' 
AVe  had  traveled  but  a  few  hundred  yards  from 
camp,  and  lo!  and  behold!  there  before  our  verv  eyes 


'(  \ 


H 


4„4  (Jatiikkki»  \Vaiki,kt«. 

f„.sh  caribou  track. '.-and  three  of  them!-«  Kreat 

J  '««nu..nts  of  Wiut..r  nn.l  uU  appeare.     a. 

;„„     ul  p'rami.lH  in  their  apparel  of  purest  wh.te, 
ul     ,    heVe  an.l  there  hy  the  -lark  ^ree,.  of  some 
i  fr..,,.  .vhieh  ha.i  clipped  it,  overburden  o    snow^ 

(h.i.tlv,  patiently,  stealthily,  we  slowly  follow  the 
„„arrv,  peering  inte,>tly  at  every  object  and  momen- 
Tilv"   xpectiuK  to  con.e  in  sight  of  our  intended  v.c 
Z  ;n.l  li  a  sl>ot.     Here  they  lingered  to  eat  the  moss 
frm.,  an  overturne.1  spruce-there  tl>ey  separated   as 
did  their  pursuers,  only  to  be  re-united  again  at    a 
little  distance-here  getting  .lown  on  hands  and  knees 
to  creep  under  dependent  bouglis  borne  down  by  their 
load'^  of  snow,  and  sometimes  misjudging  distance  by 
a  hair's  breadth,  rising  up  only  to  dislodge  it  upon  our 
necks  to  melt  and  run  down  our  backs. 

We  were  keenly  alert  ar.d  puslied  forward  with  all 
the  haste  consistent  with  extreme  caution  in  pursuing 
the  verv  irregular  course  that  the  .piarry  led  us,  and 
it  seeined  as  if  we  must  liave  been  several  liours  in 

pursuit. 

Looking  at  my  watch  I  found  it  was  1.  .s  than  an  aour 
and  an  intense  fatigue  seemed  to  overpower  me.  Pu  1- 
ine  mvself  together,  I  examined  the  fo..tprints  closely 
and  they  seemed  freslier  than  ever.  I  took  new  cour- 
age and  pushed  forward  with  renewed  vigor,  expecting 
to  get  a  shot  every  moment. 


Fiioji  LiTTi.1!  Mrcii  4(,r, 

So  intent  were  we  in  pursuit  that  we  paid  no  heeU 
to  the  general  din-ction  that  we  haj  traveled  and  .oon 
we  were  Burpri.ed  to  find  that  all  three  of  the  caribou 
had  come  to  the  edge  of  the  clearing  within  fifty  yard, 
of  our  ca.„p  where  they  ha.l  reraaine.1  «ome  time  and 
trod  the  .now  »olid  while  inveHtigating  their  gurround- 
ingg. 

y«  "niled  an  audible  smile  at  the  curiosity  mani- 
fested by  them,  and  at  o.ice  we  procee.led  t..  open  u 
lodge  of  conference,  wherein  we  .lebate.l  in  p.mK.mine 
whether  Mr.  He..d  had  seen  them,  an.l  if  so  Uiether  or 
not  he  had  exten.le.l  the  courteHy  of  the  camp  to  them 
an.l  invited  them  in  to  breakfast,  and  if  we  had  better 
continue  in  pursuit  or  give  it  up  a.i.l  return  to  camp. 

"No  surrender"  was  the  motto  that  we  signaled  to 
each  other,  and  we  turned  about  and  resumed  the  quest 
But,  alas!  we  had  so  strained  -jur  eves  peering  so 
long  at  the  brilliant  snow  that  it  was  soine  time  Ivfore 
we  recovered  our  sight  sufficiently  to  follow  the  tr  >1| 
They  wandered  off  in  a  tortuous  course  along  a  sn.ali 
brook  that  runs  diag..nally  from  the  cam,,  io  the  river 
and  along  this  we  cautiouslv  mi.d..  our  wav 

When  about  half  way  to  th..  river,  thev"  crossed  the 
brook  where  it  is  Ihink.Ml  on  eitl,..r  side  bv  a  d..„se 
growth  of  swamp  cedars. 

Here,  in  creising  the  brook  as  best  we  could,  we  cot 
in  over  our  rubber  overshoes  „„d  emerge.l  wit),  our 
feet  an.l  l,.gs  wet  nearly  to  (,ur  kncvs.  \Vl,i|,.  it  ,...,s 
intensely  cold,  the  brook  was  prebablv  fed  bv  springs 
and  the  dense  woods  growth  and  <leep  covering  of  .n.^.- 
kept  it  from  freezing. 

Onward  ac  pushed,  the  .signs  show!  ,g  fresher  and 
fresher,  and  yet  we  got  no  shot,  nor  even  a  glimpse  of 
the  wandering,  erratic  animals. 


486  Gathered  Waielets. 

We  had  become  thoroughly  warmed  up  by  our 
anxiety  and  exertion  and  were  sweating  freely.  Ex- 
pectation  lightened  our  footsteps  and  hope  spurred  us 
on  The  pale  rays  of  the  little  sun  that  broke  oceasion- 
„„y  through  the  tree  tops  showed  that  it  -^^^f^ 
past  meridian,  and  again  looking  at  my  ^^atch  I  saw 
it  was  after  one  o'clock. 

Conununicating  this  to  my  compamon  a  whispe.ed 
consultation  was  hold,  joined  to  pantomime,  when  it 
was  <lecidod  to  make  some  tea  and  eat  our  lunch. 

Looking  about  we  saw  at  a  little  distance  a  large 
overturned  yellow  birch  tree  which  promised  to  be  a 
.rood  place  to  cat  our  noonday  meal. 
Ve  gathered  an  armful  of  white  birch  bark  and 
placing  it  between  two  limbs  near  a  crotch  in  he  tree 
soon  had  a  good  fire  going  and  the  teapot  half  full  o 
boilin-  tea.  Mr.  Reed,  being  an  ample  provider,  and 
l,avin;  "iven  us  more  tea  than  we  could  use,  we  put 
ibont  one-half  in  the  teapot  and  returned  the  balance 

'";;^g:;tred  about  the  little  fire  to  eat  our  lunch 
and  dlk  the  hot  tea,  but  my  breath  had  so  frozen 
that  my  mustache  an.l  whiskers  were  a  solid  mass  of  ice 
and  I  could  not  open  my  mouth  wide  enough  to  eat  or 
drink.  Stooping  over  the  smouldering  -™"ants  of 
onr  fire  it  was  several  minutes  before  my  mouth  «as 
sufficiently  thawed  out  to  proceed  with  our  meal. 

We  had  set  the  teapot  on  the  trunk  of  the  tree  a  little 
way  from  the  fire,  which  was  replenished  from  time 
to  time  with  birch  bark,  and  now  when  about  to  partake 
of  our  meagre  repast  a  twig  that  had  been  home  down 
by  the  snow  and  frozen  to  the  trunk  was  liberated  by 


From  Little  Mrou  4^7 

the  fire  and  suddenly  switohing  around  it  knocked  the 
teapot  over  and  spillwl  the  tea. 

As  we  had  to  maintain  a  very  considerable  silence 
we  dK  not  g,ve  audible  expression  to  our  thoughts, 
but  f  the  expression  of  our  countenances  and  vehemen 
pantomime  were  adequately  described  in  words  I  am 
free  to  confess  I  think  they  would  look  better  in  some 
dead  language  than  in  unvarnished  Anglo-Saxon. 

T>et  feet  and  our  bodies  wet  with  persj.iration,  and  the 

our  backs  we  soon  became  chilled  through  and  through 
but^son.  hot  tea  we  must  have  and  so  another  fire  le' 

This  after  some  effort  to  secure  an  additional  supplv 
of  birch  bark,  we  had  blazing  up  again,  a  new  supply  of 
snow  melted,  and  the  aroma  of  the  tea  again  perfumed 
the  clear  air  for  .some  di.stance  around.  We  hastilv 
partook  of  our  dinner  which  did  not  require  the  con- 
ventional hour  for  its  disposal,  but  choicer  viands  and 
more  lengthened  time  never  imparted  greater  zest 

Refreshed  and  re-invigorated  we  increased  our  pace 
and  soon  came  to  where  two  of  the  trio  had  lain  down 
for  their  mid-day  siesta.  We  felt  that  we  must  be 
very  near  to  them,  and  the  trees  being  larger  and  of 
more  open  growth  permitted  our  more  liastv  advance 

The  sun  had  sunk  below  the  tree  to|,s  and  th..  after- 
noon was  well  spent  when  the  trail  led  us  tc  and  across 
the  Allegash  tote  road  several  miles  from  our  camp 
toward  Ashland  in  the  direction  taken  bv  our  frien.ls 
and  their  guides  in  the  morning.  havinsr'substantialK- 
ma.le  a  large,  irregular  half  circle  aroun.l  our  eam[. 


^88  Gathered  Waiflets. 

Hastily  oroBsing  the  road  we  found  to  our  dismay 
crestfallen,  disappointed  and  weary  we  ga 

1 ,11     Soon  after  our  return  to  camp  his  massive  head 
1896. 


ff 


WOODS  PICTURES. 
TAKII.G  Photographs  in  the  Forest. 

S  TIGHTLY  paraphrasing  an  old  saying,  which 
has  now  the  force  of  an  aphorism,  we  may 
sav  that  one-half  of  those  who  enjoy  an 
annual  o^Un^  do  not  Unow  what  ^^l^^'^: 
„or  wherein  lies  the>r   pleasu  Spor- 

little   or   -thiugi-Y-'""-;;;!;,  "r^osort,  and 
t,e  din  and  dissipa  ion  o^^ -/,^^;  \„,    „,,,y. 

,0   -   T  s  Xs^^T  re  til  and  recreation  far 

CX— "dtsipaiionofment^^^^ 

mountain  solitude  and  virgin  fores  -,  of  ripphug  stream 

Ll  placid  lake;  of  the  ."-^»  ^-^  .^Tol 
tain  range  and  towering  peak;  of  the  mm.  b 


Woods  Pictures 


489 


of  grosbeak  and  the  sustained  melody  of  the  Canada 
thrush;  of  the  timid  deer  and  gamey  trout;  of  the 
waving  pines  and  the  balsamic  odors  of  spruce  and  fir 
—all  commingling  and  blending  to  attract  and  please 

"Ilim  who  in  the  love  of  uature  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms." 

They  are  all  harmonized  notes  in  the  unending  Te 
Deum  to  the  God  of  nature,  and  all  who  come  within 
their  influence  will  find  the  heart  quickened,  the  mind 
eleva    d,  the  body  invigorated. 

Any  one  of  the  above  subjects  would  make  a  sufficient 
text  for  an  extended  article,  and  altogether  they  would 
fill  a  generous  volume  without  amplification.  We  will, 
therefore,  limit  this  article  to  a  single  episode  in  our 
recent  outing,  and  this  we  do  for  a  twofold  purpose, 
viz.:  to  show  one  of  the  very  pleasant  and  unusual 
occurrences  which  may  come  to  them  who  journey 
far  from  the  habitations  of  men,  and  also,  in  so  far 
as  it  may,  to  prove  that  the  poi)ular  notion  that  all 
who  go  into  the  wilds  find  their  only  pleasure  in  w  i..ton 
slaughter. 

On  August  8th  of  the  present  year  our  party,  made 
up  of  congenial  companions,  arrived  at  Maccaimamac 
Lodge  on  Spider  lake,  in  the  province  of  Quebec, 
belonging  to  the  Megantio  Club,  having  left  the  settle- 
ments in  Maine  a  week  previous  by  journeying  up  the 
Dead  river  to  the  Chain  of  Ponds  and  over  Snow  moun- 
tain to  the  famed  Seven  ponds,  and  thence  out  by 
Massachusetts  Bog,  Arnold  Pond  and  Crosby  Pond, 
where  we  took  the  trail  across  the  Boundary  mountains 
to  the  headquarters  of  the  club. 


490  Gathebeu  Waiflets. 

Already  the  membership  limit  of  three  hundred  is 
reached,  knd  most  of  the  members  -nake  a  tour  of  the 
preserves  every  year,  and  we  met  a  large  number  at 
the  clubhouse,  as  well  as  in  the  different  camps  and 
upon  the  various  trails.    And  yet  no  one  now  Imng 
recalls  the  time  when  deer  were  so  plentiful  or  tame 
as  they  are  this  year.    It  was  a  daily  sight  to  see  them 
feeding,  playing  with  each  other  along  the  shores  of 
the  lakes,  and  so  tame  that  many  """y' J«^«  "^" 
enough  to  see  them  wink  their  eyes.    Few  days  there 
were  the  past  Summer  that  deer  did  not  come  into 
the  yard  about  the  clubhouse,  especially  in  the  after- 
noon, twilight  and  evening;  and  so  little  were  they  dis- 
turbed by  the  presence  of  man,  or  the  wanton  destruc- 
tion so  much  talked  and  written  about,  that  they  wou kl 
tarry  about  in  the  clearing  as  ^^-oncern.>\  n.  do^e.U^ 
cated  animals-even  within  twenty-five  feet  of  the 
p    zza  when  occupied  by  many  people.    Their  inqmsi- 
tive  gaze,  graceful  outlines  and  fearlessness  were  a 
source  of  pLsure  for  all,  and  were  much  more  higWy 
enjoyed  than  would  be  the  same  forms  rendered  inam- 
mate  by  the  ruthless  rifle  bullet. 

Do  not  the  presence  of  deer  so  tame  and  in  such 
numbers  negative  the  overdrawn  and  I'-g^J-colored 
claim  of  wanton  slaughter!  B.  not  --\f-;s  ^peak 
volumes  in  proof  of  a  higher  sportsmanship  that  find 
,„ore  pleasure  in  conservation  than  in  des  ruction? 
And  in  no  uncertain  tones  does  it  not  tell  us  of  the  aw- 
abiding  and  law-enforcing  character  of  the  members 
of  the  Megantin  Club? 

But  to  return  to  the  episode  of  the  trip  which  occa- 
sioned  this  article. 


Woods  PicTfREs  491 

On  the  afternoon  of  August  10th  a  young  man  from 
Boston  and  the  writer  went  up  the  trail  leading  from 
the  clubhouse  through  the  preserve  with  our  cameras 
to  get  some  woods  views,  and  when  we  had  proceeded 
but  a  httle  way,  in  going  around  a  bend,  we  encoun- 
tered a  beautiful  doe  not  more  than  thirty  yards  away 
My  friend  having  plates  much  quicker  than  my 
films,  I  whispered  to  him  to  take  a  snap,  although  the 
8un  was  wrong  for  us,  the  ,ioe  being  to  the  westward. 
This  he  did  several  times,  the  subject  being  not  in  the 
least  disconcerted.     She  cautiously  venture.l  toward 
us,  browsing  on  the  shrubbery  along  the  trail  and  sev- 
eral times  knocked  flies  from  her  ears  with  her  hind 
feet.     We  did  not  fail  to  notice  her  graceful  outlines 
and  most  beautiful  posing,  and  yet  we  despaired  of  get- 
ting a  good  picture,  ow=ng  to  her  moving  about  anil  our 
bad  light. 

At  length  I  suggested  to  my  frien.l  to  set  up  his 
tripod  an<l  I  would  try  a  time  e.v:posure  with  mv  larger 
camera.  This  he  procee.le.l  to  do,  and  as  he  imfol.le.l 
Its  legs  her  bump  of  curiosity  asserte.l  itself,  and  she 
cautiously  approached  us  within  ten  f,.et,  starin-  all 
the  while  at  the  new  three-legged  thing  that  she  had 
never  seen  before.  She  was  then  at  a  point  where  we 
wanted  her,  but  the  declining  sun  shot  sharp  ravs 
through  the  tree  tops  directly  on  llu.  Iens,an<l  rendere<l 
dubious  our  chances  for  s.,.c,cess.  .Just  then  slie  thought 
she  would  take  a  rear  view  of  her  visitors  and  their 
new-fangled  contrivances,  and  so  she  walk.'d  around 
and  by  us  and  came  out  again  into  the  trail  not  more 
than  ten  or  twelve  feet  away.  What  with  the  torment- 
ing flies  and  her  efforts  to  rid  herself  of  these  nests 
smpping  off  the  foliage  a,...  eating  «-ith  avidity"  and 


492  Gathebed  Waifi-bts. 

peering  at  ub  from  a  dozen  different  attitudes  we  had 
much  to  admire  and  enjoy,  but  we  could  not  catch 
her  quiet  long  enough  to  make  the  desired  exposure 
Several  of  our  efforts  resulted  indifferently  well  but 
that  shown  in  the  accompanying  cut  is  perhaps  the  best 

°\v  e  probably  spent  in  all  a  full  half  hour  wi*h  Mrs. 
Doe,  and  when  we  left  the  scene  of  operations  .he  was 
quietly  eating  her  supper  within  twency  feet  of  the 

*"such  experience  seldom  comes  to  him  who  goes  into 
the  woods,  and  it  is  something  remarkable  to  occur  ,n 
a  section  of  country  settled  so  many  years  ago  and  so 
ll  V  populated  as  is  New  England.  When  we 
lated  our  experience  to  our  friends  at  the  clubhouse 
on  our  return,  we  received  heartiest  congratulat.on  on 
opening  a  st^lio  in  the  woods  and  1™ /^^f  (^-^ 
for  patrons.-r;,c  Amatenr  Sportsman,  October,  1895. 


A  DAY  WITH  MUSKALONGE  IN  CANADA. 

MORNING  came.    Dog  days    had  not  run  their 
course.    The  sun  cast  up  red  like  a  ball  of 
Are     Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred  to  temper 
the  torrid  heat.    Swallows  flitted  hizily  about,  and  the 
bilant  song  of  locusts  fell  drowsily  on  the  ear  Jiny 
fleecy  clouds  on  the  Lori.on  gave  promise  ot  sho«ers 

nu°S:g' thtU  hours  of  the  ^o™/p-Sfr 
to  the  home  of  old  Brissette  on  the  bank  of  Pike  nver 


A  Day  With  Muskaionob  in  Canada  4<».» 
(which  flows  into  that  portion  of  Lake  Champlain 
known  as  Missiquoi  bay)  near  the  village  of  Bedford 
Quebec.  I  was  provided  with  a  hamper  of  solids  and 
liquids  for  the  inner  man,  and  a  sufficient  supply  of 
paraphernalia  to  start  a  fisliing-tackle  store.  Brissette 
was  awaiting  me. 

'•Bon  jour,  ban  jour,  man  cher  ami;  we  mek  start 
rat  off  for  quick. " 

Dipping  his  fingers  into  the  benitier,  which  always 
has  a  conspicuous  place  in  the  home  of  the  habitant 
Bnssette  devoutly  made  the  sign  of  the  cross;  an.l 
with  a  wish  from  his  wife  for  our  success  and  safe 
return,  we  took  our  departure  for  the  flat  water  of  the 
river,  some  distance  below  his  house. 

On  our  way  to  the  landing,  near  the  deep  pool  where 
the  rapids  end,  we  passed  through  nooks  and  vistas  in 
glade  and  mead  that  gladdened  the  eye;  wliere  nature 
in  her  seeming  indifference  and  frowsy  neglect 
furnishes  many  artistic  sights.  The  timid  brown  thrush 
IS  startled  by  our  intrusion  and  flits  into  the  denser 
growth  beyond,  and  the  bobolink  sings  liis  joyous 
rollicking  notes  in  the  meadow.  All  this  seems  lost  on' 
the  matter-of-fact  Brissette,  the  patient  basket  maker 
and  successful  angler;  perhaps  because  it  is  a  part  of 
his  everyday  life. 

At  the  landing  the  trolling  rod  of  split  bamboo  is 
assembled,  the  nniltiplying  reel  is  well  secured  in  its 
place,  the  threadlike,  silk  waterproof  enameled  line  is 
extended  through  the  guides,  and  a  latest  pattern  of 
trolling  spoon  is  attached.  Brissette  scrutinized  cverv- 
thing  closely  without  saying  a  word,  but  it  required 
only  an  indifferent  mind-reader  to  see  that  he  was  not 
favorably  impressed.  As  we  took  our  places  in  the 
boat  he  said : — 


494 


Gathkrku  Waiflkts. 


"  Vcr'  nice,  dat  tings,  ver'  nice.  He  don't  fool  'longe, 
plobly,  don't  he,  heiuf" 

Feeling  entirely  confident  of  giving  him  a  surprise, 
I  was  content  to  make  answer, 

"Well,  we'll  see,  Brissette,  we'll  see." 
The  oars  were  in  the  hands  of  a  master.  The  boat 
moved  as  smoothly  as  a  swun  on  the  surface  of  the 
water.  The  speed  was  neither  too  fast  nor  too  slow. 
fc,->venty-five  yards  of  line  were  slowly  paid  out.  Every 
nerve  was  tense,  and  anxiety  waited  on  expectation. 
Slowly  a  mile  was  covered,  but  no  pirate  of  the 
waters  seized  the  tempting  lure.  My  faith  in  the 
burnished  gold  and  silver  spoon  weakened  after  going 
a  few  miles,  and  I  asked  Brissette  to  desist  from 
rowing  until  I  mounted  a  phantom  minnow. 

"Looks  lak  he  no  wants  de  jewelry  mek  on  de  State, 
hein?" 

"Well,  Brissette,  your  'longe  may  not  be  so  nighly 
educated  as  ours,  but  all  the  same  I  think  I  shall  tempt 
one  yet." 

"Plobly,"  answered  Brissette,  with  deep  skepticism 
depicted  upon  every  lineament  of  his  countenance. 

I  raised  and  lowered  the  tip  of  the  rod,  describing 
the  tangents  of  a  circle,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  We 
covered  five  miles  without  a  rise  or  a  sign.  I  discarded 
my  phantom  minnow  for  a  St.  Lawrence  gang,  and  we 
covered  more  miles  without  encouragement  or  reward. 
At  the  turning  point  we  neared  a  few  spreading  elms 
and  I  suggested  to  Brissette  that  we  go  ashore  to  eat 

our  lunch. 

C'aubing  the  precipitous  bank  of  the  river  we  saw 
murky  clouds  rolling  toward  the  zenith  from  the 
Western  horizon.     They  were  frequently  intersected 


A  Dat  With  Mi'skaloxor  in  Canada       495 

and  illuminated  by  zigzag  chains  of  lightning.  It  was 
evident  that  a  heavy  shower  was  not  far  off,  and  we 
deemed  it  wise  to  seek  the  shelter  of  an  outlying  barn 
some  distance  away.  We  had  just  begun  to  dispose  of 
our  refreshments,  seated  on  mounds  of  sweet  scented, 
newly  gatliered  hay,  wlieii  great  rain  drops  beat  a 
restful  tattoo  on  the  roof.  The  wind  grew  in  volume 
and  intensity  and  soon  we  were  in  the  midst  of  a  blind- 
ing summer  shower,  punctuute<l  by  the  flash  and  rour  of 
the  artillery  of  the  clouds.  The  face  of  nature  was 
thoroughly  washed,  and  after  the  passing  of  the 
shower,  vegetation  appeared  an  intenscr  green. 

Luncheon  was  leisurely  disposed  of,  together  with 
something  of  a  liciuid  nature,  which  ha<l  a  happy  effect, 
when  Brissette  broke  in  with, 

"Bah  gosh!  ah'U  tole  liol'  hwomans  we  go  get  big 
'longe;  for  big  tam.    We'll  fin'  big  tarn  for  sure!" 
"Yes,  but  we  haven't  got  our  big  'loi.ge  yet." 
"Certainement!  Ccrtaincmctit!    Des   'longe  h     no 
lak  for  to  heat  de  jewelry  tings.    He  lak  it  de  chub 
bettaire. 

"Well,  Brissette,  I  don't  know  but  you  are  more 
than  half  right.  If  you  will  rig  up  a  chub  for  me  your 
way,  we'll  try  our  luck  with  him. 

"Non,  non,  mon  cher  ami!  Brissette  mak'  it  de  boat 
go  long  sof  and  easy  lak.  He  no  feesh.  }!oiis  ne 
pas  for  mak  dat  wheel  machine  go  on  dat  Ic'tly  feedle 
steeck. ' ' 

"Oh!  You  may  row  the  boat  just  the  same  and  I 
will  use  f-  ^  rod  and  reel.  I  only  want  you  to  get  the 
chub  and  put  him  on  the  hook  for  me  your  way. ' ' 

"I  no  lak  it  dat  way,  me.  I  go  on  de  store  for 
melasses  and  de  doote-ir  he  come  and  he  say,  'Brissette, 


i  i 


J:  ! 


4U6  Uatiikkkd  Waiklkth. 

I  go  for  'longe  las'  week.  I  don't  get  one.  For  how 
you  feex  it  de  bait  on  de  hook  for  oateh  himt"  De 
minstaire  he  say,  'Brissette,  for  how  you  coax  de 
'longe f  I  feesh,  one,  two,  three  tarn,  and  don't  lee 
•longe  at  all.'  De  Heenglishmans  in  village  he  ver' 
smart;  he  know  every  tings.  He  say,  'Brissette,  we 
go  feesh  wid  you  some  tarn,  some  day,  noder  day.' 
Brissette  no  keep  it  de  school;  Brissette  he  no  go!" 

"Very  well,  Brissette,  I  will  adopt  your  method. 
You  rig  up  a  bait  your  way,  and  on  our  way  back  I 
will  do  just  as  you  direct." 

"Bain  look  mos'  gon'  by.  I  go  on  de  brook  for  ten- 
fifteen  minutes;  den  you  come  on  de  boat." 

The  time  had  passed,  the  rain  had  ceased,  the  air 
was  refreshed  and  agreeably  tempered.  Meeting  at  the 
boat  by  appointment,  Brissette  exhibited  a  chub  at 
least  ten  inches  long,  which  he  had  caught  in  the  brook, 
and  which  he  said  was  to  be  my  bait. 

"Great  Scott!  Brissette,  you  don't  mean  it!  Why 
that  fish  is  almost  large  enough  to  carry  home  to  stuff 
and  bake.    It  will  frighten  any  'longe  out  of  his  wits ! 

"You  for  do  my  way,  hein!  Well,  Brissette  acquaint 
wid  dese  'longe  and  he  know  what  he  lak'  pour  manger 

for  him  supper."  „  •      .1 

While  engaged  in  this  conversation,  Bnssette  was 
mounting  the  chub.  He  peelo.l  and  sharpened  a  small 
sapling  with  which  he  made  a  perforation  from  the 
head  aloi  -  the  backbone  to  the  roar  of  the  dorsal  fin. 
Through  this  he  passed  a  copper  wire  which  he  made 
thoroughly  secure  to  a  hook  large  enough  and  strong 
enough  to  hold  a  shark.  He  then  withdrew  the  copper 
.ire  until  the  shank  of  the  hook  was  d-wn  in  0  b 
opening  made  bv  the  sapling,  and  so  concealed  in  the 


A  Day  AV.th  MrsKA.,..N«K  iv  Ianai.a      497 

hrough  the  bo.Iy  midway  botwoon  tho  .lorsal  fin  «,„| 
the  ta.l  tt„d  «ave  it  a  twi,st.  or  bon.l.  which  would  cause 
he  chub  to  r..volv..  when  drawn  throu,.].  th,.  water 

l.ps,  effectually  clo«i„^  the  .uouth  so  the  bait  would 
move  through  the  water  easily  and  without  injury  „1 
finally  he  connected  it  with  the  chain  of  sw  vols 
attached  to  the  end  of  his  line 

He  cast  the  bait  thu.s  „n,,„red  «overal  times  into  the 
water  and  drew  it  towar.l  Imuself  to  see  if  it  revolve^ 
properly  while  bein,  drawn  through  the  water  rVv 
thing  being  satisfactory,  Brissette  said 

;;  We  now  go  for  beeg  'longe;  we  get  him  for  sure." 
but  I  ei:         "  ^       r"  '"""""^"'  '^  «""''-  Brissette, 

wltranTir*''""^""^''^  •-"■•-"  »>•->■ 

"Hole'  heem  in  your  hnn's.  When  big  'longe  eat 
him  and  run,  let  him  go.  p„„  heem  in,  let  heem  ,o  some 
more ;  bimeby  he  get  vef  tired. '  • 

"Yes,  but  how  do  you  do  when  alone!  You  can't 
hold  the  line  and  row  at  the  same  time  " 

''Hoi'  line  in  mout'.  When  'longe  come,  stop  row. 
take  hoi'  on  line." 

Diplomacy,  persuasion  and  im,,ortunitv  were 
brought- to  bear,  and  fter  a  great  .lea,  of"  remon- 
strance. an.1  with  evMent  misgiving  on  his  par*  he  at 
last  consented  to  let  me  use  my  ro,l.  reel  and  line,  on  the 
strongest  assurance  of  their  strength  and  reliability, 
and  that  I  would  be  neither  displeased  nor  disap- 
pointed If  I  hooked  and  then  lo.t  the  largest  'longe 
through  rny  own  inability  or  the  breaking  or  failure 
ot  my  tackle. 


V 


498  (tATIIBHKIl    WaIJ-LKTH. 

With  thi»  oonccision  and  undcrstantlinB,  we  set  out 
on  our  return  trip.    ObcyiiiR  the  inBtrurtions  of  Brii. 
iette  I  paid  out  only  twenty-five  or  thirty  yard*  of  line. 
We  carefully  skirted  the  lily  paila,  (fivinj?  special  atten- 
tion to  the  deep  pools  where  the  water  had  cut  away  the 
banks  of  the  river,  and  to  the  darksome  reachu  of 
water  beneath  the  overhanRinK  Rrowth  of  water  brush 
and  other  foli8«e.  Mile  on  mile  we  slowly  covered,  with 
expectation  constantly  keyed  up  to  intensest  pitch,  but 
all  to  no  porjiose.    We  came  in  siRlit  of  the  wide  and 
deep  pool  lit  the  place  of  our  departure  near  the  end  of 
the  rapids  without  any  attack  on  our  leviathan  bait. 
Brissette's   volubility   had   ceased   and   anxiety   was 
depicted  on  his  countenance.    We  were  gently  sweeping 
around  the  other  side  of  the  pool  when  I  venturd  to  say, 
"Well,  Brissette,  it  begins  to  look  doubtful  if  your 
prediction  will  be  fulfilled  to<lay.    The  big  'longe  don't 
seem  to  want  to  call  on  the  big  ch-Hold  on,  Brissette. 
hold  on!    We've  struck  a  snag  1" 

Whiz-izz-izz-zz-z  went  the  reel.  The  fight  was  on, 
and  we  were  launched  at  once  into  the  storm  center  of 
exciting  sport. 

The  mighty  fish  threw  his  weight  on  the  rod  and 
it  yielded  to  the  strain  in  graceful  Mipse.  Away  he 
went  down  stream,  pulling  the  boat  after  him  as  if  it 
was  drawn  bv  a  stout  pony.  The  strain  was  too  great 
and  ho  hurled  himself  defiantly  out  of  the  water,  the 
embodiment  of  untamed  fury  an.l  piscatorial  ferocity. 
'•Hon  Dieu!  Mon  Dim!  but  he  is  de  bigges'  fader 
of  dem  all!  Nex'  tam  he  come  he  eat  up  your  leetly 
string  and  feedle  stceck  and  laf  at  Yankee  man  from 
State!  Brissette  mek  him  cool  off  and  go  'long  home 
widhimfor  sure." 


A  Dav  With  AltHKAi-oNOR  in  ('anada      -JttK 
"Just  wait  a  little  while,  Uri.gette.  and  gee  what  the 
Yankee  ,„an  ami  hi»  fld,lle»tick  will  do.    He'll  cool  hira 
oil  all  nght." 

Down  to  the  Imttoin  went  the  'lounge  to  8ulk.  A  few 
g.-ntle  turns  of  the  reel  and  like  a  flnnh  out  a^ain  came 
tue  tiger  of  the  waters,  shaking  his  head  to  free  himself 
from  the  cruel  barb;  but  the  multiplying  reel  an.l  the 
resiliency  of  the  split  bamboo  rod  gave  Imn  no  .slack 
line  and  conse(|uently  no  chance  to  escape. 

Sapntti,  hut  I  nevaire  see  like  dat  before,  me  '  One 
eet  y  feedle  string  and  one  leetly  Hddle  steek  mek 
hohl  moH'  bigges'  'loung..  as  ever  was." 

i;.ii"«'.  iV"  :*'•""■  *■""  ''"'"'■*'  '  »«'  ""•""«''  »■'""  »li»' 

little  hd.lle  string  un.l  the  little  fiddle  stick  will  ,lo  " 
Meanwhile  his  royal  majesty   made   another  drive 
away  from  the  boat  with  great  speed  an.l  power.    To 
the  resistance  of  the  drag  on   the  reel  I  «,lded   the 
pressure  of  my  thumb  on  the  line,  but  he  never  c-asetl 
in  his  (light  until  ho  had  t«k,  n  out  son,..  f„rtv  or  liftv 
yards  of  line.    H,.  then  starte.l  on  a  circuit  of'the  pool 
which  I  endeavored  to  check  l,v  giving  him  th,.  butt  of 
the  rod  an.l  by  reeling  in  wlu.never  for  a  nu,in,.nt  he 
desisted  from  pulling  and  tugging.    Twice  .luring  the 
circuit  he  essHye.l  th,.  aerial  act,  but  with  l,.ss  impetu- 
osity an.l  vioU'iic...    It  was  ..asy  to  see  that  the  severe 
strain  of  the  ro.l  was  telling    on    his    strength.     He 
turned  about  and  made  another  wil.l  rush  as  if  to  pass 
underneath  the  boat,  but  reeling  in  .pucklv  and  putting 
pressure  on  the  ro.l  I  frustrnt...l  his  plan  and  prevente.l 
the  line  from  getting  entangle.l  with  the  oars,  as  woul.l 
otherwise  probably  have  been  the  case.    That  seeme.l 
to  infuriate  him  anew  and  again  he  essayed  to  leap  out 
of  the  water  as  his  only  hope  of  escape;  but  he  was 


1 


50(1  GaTIIKKKD    WAtfl.ETS. 

unable  to  force  more  than  his  head  and  back  above 
the  surface  of  the  water. 

Alas!  good  fighter!  Alas!  mighty  warrior!  All 
•langer  is  past  and  it  is  only  a  question  of  patience, 
care  and  time  before  your  royal  sway  is  at  an  end. 

The  fi"ht  was  fast  and  furious,  permitting  of  no 
conversation  nor  idle  banter.  Brissette,  while  carefully 
managing  the  boat,  did  not  for  an  instant  cease  o 
re-ard  the,  to  him,  unequal  contest  with  an  intensity 
of'inter.st  bordering  on  enthusiasm  and  amazement. 
"Ah'  Brissette,"  I  ventured  at  last,  "see  the  big 
follow  is  getting  tired.  Now  what  do  you  think  of  the 
fiddle  string  and  the  little  fiddle  stick?" 

"Bah  -'osh!  fee.lle  string  and  fe(>dle  steeck  all  right 
when  Yankee  man  play  de  feedle.  Bah  gosh!  I  nevaire 
see  like  dat,  me."  This  by  way  of  compliment  and 
praise,  for  your  Frenchman  is  nothing  if  not  pohte  and 
complimentary.  . 

"Thank  you,  Brissette,  but  we  haven't  got  him  into 

the  boat  yet."  j    ,  u 

"For  sure,  our  'longe!  I  jomp  in  wataire  and  pull 

him  on  shore." 

"Well,  not  just  now,  Brissette.  He  is  cooling  down 
all  right,  and  when  all  the  fight  is  out  of  him  I  will 
lead  him  around  to  the  edge  of  the  boat  Then  you  can 
slip  your  thumb  and  fingers  into  his  gills  and  lift  him 

'"'Ten  minutes  more  passed  and  the  struggle  was  at 
an  end  The  fierce  fighter  could  be  led  about  as  gently 
as  a  fingerling.  I  reeled  in  the  line.  As  the  'longe 
neared  the  gunwale  the  hand  of  Brissette  laid  firm 
hold  on  the  gills  and  soon  the  monster  was  writhing 
on  the  bottom  of  the  boat.    A  merciful  blow  «v  the 


From  Nati-re  Up  To  xXATfRE's  G„n        :m 

base  of  the  skull  ended  the  struggle    and    Brissette 
pulled  for  the  shore. 

As  the  shadows  of  ,  n  oning  gathered,  a  proud  proces- 
sion moved  thrc  rh  the  villn  ,.•  street,  to  the  surprise 
and  wondermen,  o!  passtrs  oy,  who  were  generous 
with  oongratulat.,,:s  an!  pr.ise.  At  last  the  village 
store  was  reached  and  the  scale  registered  28V4  pounds 
as  the  weight  of  my  prize.  I  returned  to  my  home 
with  pleasant  recollections,  well  content  to  have  spent 
the  day  on  Pike  river  with  old  Briasette.-Recreation 
December,  1902. 


FROM  NATURE  UP  TO  NATURE'S  GOD. 

BEFORE  the  creation  of  mankind  in  the  person 
of  our  first  parents,  Adam  and  Eve,  it  pleased 
the  Omnipotent  Jehovah  to  clothe  and  adorn 
the    landscape    and    towering    mountains    with    the 
offspring  of  His  power  and  love. 

In  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis  we  read  that  on  the 
third  day  God  said:  "Let  the  earth  bring  fortli  the 
green  herb,  and  such  as  may  seed,  and  the  fruit  tree 
yielding  fruit  after  its  kind,  which  may  have  seed  in 
itself  upon  the  earth,  and  it  was  done. 

And  the  earth  brought  forth  Jie  green  herb,  and  such 
as  yieldeth  seed  according  to  its  own  kind,  and  the  tree 
that  beareth  fruit,  liaving  seed  each  one  acconling  to 
its  own  kind.    And  God  saw  that  it  was  good." 

And  why  should  it  not  be  good?  A  creation  for  a 
definite  purpose,  a  specified  end,  without  restriction 
or  limitation  to  place  or  time— to  serve  and  to  serve 


r)02 


Gatiikukd  AVaiklets. 


only  the  purposes  of  a  kind  and  all-wise  Creator — how 
could  it,  how  can  it  be  otherwise  than  good?  Created 
by  God  for  a  God-like  end,  without  power  to  rebel  or 
offend,  who  shall  say  that  God's  ways  are  not  highest 
wisdom,  that  His  purposes  do  not 

"through  countless  ages  unceasing  run," 
that  His  power  and  love  are  not  now  everywhere  as 
manifest  as  in  the  time  of  creation,    and    that    His 
mercies  do  not  still  abide  in  His  works  to  proclaim  His 
Omnipotence,  to  bless  and  to  cheer? 

The  world  of  Nature  is  one  vast  school-house,  but 
man — inconsistent,  thoughtless  man — is  prone  to 
neglect,  mis-interpret,  or  forget  the  many  valuable 
lessons  taught  therein.  These  are  everywhere  in 
evidence,  illimitable  and  exhaustless,  and  they  are 
adajited  to  the  idiosyncracies,  temperaments  and  capa- 
bilities of  all. 

Philosophers,  scientists  ami  students  may  actively 
spend  all  the  days  of  long  lives  without  avail  in  the 
attempt  to  measure  the  extent  of  space,  to  determine 
the  movement  of  the  planets  therein,  or  to  adequately 
depict  the  beauty  of  the  starry  heavens  and  the  music 
of  the  spheres.  But  all  these  and  much  more  that  are 
beyond  the  range  of  the  masses  of  mankind,  have  their 
counterpart  in  things  mundane,  things  around  and 
about  us  with  which  we  are  all  familiar,  things  com- 
monplace, if  anything  created  by  Omnipotence  may 
be  so  called,  and  they  teach  equally  important  and 
valuable  lessons  to  all  who  have  open  eyes  and  a  rever- 
ent mind.  Along  this  more  humble  pathway  we  shall 
direct  our  footsteps. 

Going  hence,  we  see  the  running  vine  and  scented 
flower,  the  gnarled  oak  and  towering  pine,  the  waving 


!  I. 


From  Xauke  Vv  To  Xati  rks  Co,,  :,„-.] 
grass  and  blooming  lily;  but  in  tbeir  luxunane,.  an.l 
beauty  we  can  read  no  trace  of  tlie  sorrow  of  an 
offended  God  which  is  recorded  in  tlio  Scriptures 
agamst  the  dereliction  from  duty  of  His  higliest  crea 
tion  when  He  said  "It  repented  Him"  for  having 
created  man. 

But  our  steps  are  directed  toward  the  wilderness 
which  clothes  the  mountain  side,  and  the  thought  com- 
forts and  encourages  us  that  there  at  l.'ast  we  slnll 
be  alone  in  His  creation-there  at  least  we  shall  escape 
from  the  traps  and  [.it-falls  so  iii,lustriuuslv  and  seduc- 
tively planned  and  laid  by  man  to  ensnare  and  de-rade 
his  brother-there  at  least  we  shall  have  God's  work 
upon  the  third  day  for  associates  and  companions. 

Standing  alone  upon  the  acclivity  we  se(>  a  giant  oak, 
gnarled  and  scarre.l  by  the  storn"is  and  buffetings  of 
lengthened  years,  its  roots  growing  deeper  and  tinner 
with  every  onslaught,  its  massive  limbs  outstretched 
as  if  in  <lefiance  to  the  storm's  severity  and  tlie  assaults 
of  Time.  In  tliis  sturdy  and  detiant  picture  we  see  a 
type  of  the  hermit  of  old  who  sueeessfully  battled  for 
God  and  right,  and  who  was  content  to  stand  alone  and 
battle  for  righteousness  though  all  the  world  opposed. 
But  now  we  have  passed  to  the  denser  growtli  of  the 
conifers  that  live  in  such  close  and  helpful  relation  as 
to  suggest  the  members  of  human  commur.ities  who  for 
the  greater  love  and  glory  of  God  live  apart  from  the 
world,  their  prayers  and  good  deeds  purifying  the 
atmosphere  in  which  they  live  and  ascending  to  the 
great  white  throne  on  high  even  as  the  balsamic  fra- 
grance of  the  trees  purifies  and  perfumes  th<'  sur- 
rounding atmosphere. 


I    5 


.-)(I4 


(iATlIKKKL)    WaIKI.KTS 


And  anon,  toil  and  perseverance  brinj?  us  well  up 
the  mountain  si.le  where  we  rest  hesi.lo  a  spring  that 
gushes  forth  and  pours  out  its  sparkling,  saving  waters 
to  revivify  and  nourish  all  below,  even  as  the  grace  of 
God  is  continuously  outpoured  upon  all  to  revivify,  to 
no'""  ,'..,  to  restore  and  to  bless. 

Ascending  still  higher,  we  encounter  what  was  once 
a  snnill  lakelet,  clear  as  crystal,  that  once  reflected  the 
c.igle's  flight  by  day  and  the  glittering  stars  by  mght; 
but,  now,  aliisl"  through  inadvertanee,  carelessness,  or 
malevolence,  some  member  of  the  human  family  enkin- 
dled a  fire  which  did  the  work  of  destruction.  Forest 
,,.,.,.s— great  and  mighty— trees  that  saw  the  rising  and 
s,.tting"sun  throughout  untold  centuries— fell  before 
the  devouring  element,  and  where  once  was  a  beautiful 
forest  picture  that  would  please  the  heart  and  gladden 
the  eye  of  an  artist  is  now  a  blackened  and  repulsive 
spot  in  the  forest— the  once  pellucid  waters  now  over- 
grown with  noxious  weeds  and  transformed  into  a 
miasmatic  bog.  . 

Here  is  suggested  and  impressed  upon  the  mind  ot 
the  thoughtful  and  contemplative  one  of  the  saddest 
pictures  upon  which  the  mind  can  dwell- the  beauty  of 
the  garden  of  Eden  and  the  fall  of  man,  the  work  of 
the  sower  of  cockle  upon  the  goodly  field  of  wheat,  the 
work  of  the  unrighteous  and  ungodly  in  the  world  and 
the  evils  resulting  therefrom. 

Before  resuming  our  upward  journey  let  us  search 
in  the  unwholesome  and  repulsive  bog  for  our  old 
friend,  the  modest  and  retiring  pitcher  plant,  of  the 
order  Sanacrnia,  limited  to  two  genera,  and  known 
to  the  botanist  as  Saiiacniia  piirpni'':'- 

A  dilligent  search  is  recynired  to  discover  the  object 


Khom  Natirr   Ui'  To  Naitkk's  (i„i,        ;■,,,.-, 
of  '  ur  <i,u.st  hul,l,.„  away  bencatli  tlio  licli,.„s,  e„a,s,. 
grass  and  otlicr  noxious  an,l  n.r...l«iv,.  un.lci-rowtlis 
But  our  hunt  is  ,-,.war,l,.,i  an.l  a^ain  w,.  Ii„.|  our  ol,l' 
line  tavorif  Mourisl».a  by  the  stagnant  waters  of  tho 
bog,  Its  urn-slia,)(.<l  ix'tiol..  Iill,.,l  with  the  pur,,    crvs 
tnl.zed  ami  sparkling  ,l,.ws  of  hoavn,  wIum,  again  w,. 
ur,.  romin.l,.,!  of  tli,.  goo.lnoss  nn.I  Mercy  of  (io,l  whioh 
abounds  m  the  world  amidst  th,.  wi,.ke,ln,.ss  of  „„.„ 
again  ^s■o  see  a  type  of  the  human  broth(.rhoods  an,l  sis- 
t(.rl,oods,  the  oas<.s  in  the  desert    places    of    Mfe    to 
eneourag,.  and  uplift,  an,l  again  w,.  s,.o  ov..r  and  abov,. 
all.  a  typ..  of  the  Virgin  Mother  who  gave  the  (io.l.Mau 
place  in  the  chalic,.  of  her  virginity  while  surrounded 
l)y  an  indifr..rent,  n.pulsive  and  sinful  worl.l 

Climbing  still  furtln.r  up  the  ascent  the  nof.s  of 
smgmg  birds  tak(.  on  a  pun.r  tone  .md  cheer  us  on  our 
valleys  below  and  beyond  until  the  horizon  limits  our 
way.  Reaching  the  summit,  we  gaze  out  upon  the 
vision.  We  seem  lifted  above  the  things  of  the  world 
— tlie  strife,  the  passion.s  and  sins  of  mankind.  \V(. 
seem  to  breathe  in  a  holier  atmosphere  than  is  vouch- 
safed to  them  b(.|ow,  to  he  more  than  recompens(.d  f.)r 
the  toil  of  the  journey  even  as  are  those  who  nianrully 
strive  in  the  journey  of  life  for  the  "well  ,lone,  good 
and  faithful  servant"  of  the  Master. 

We  realize  that  Nature  consta.itly  suggests  and 
constantly  points  upward  to  Nature's  God,  and  that 
he  alone  is  wise  whr  heeds  the  helpful  h.ssons  taught. 
"The  heavens  show  forth  the  glory  of  god,  and'tlK. 
firmament  ileclareth  the  work  of  His  hands. "-!.( »»„/,, 
of  Sawt  Anthony's  Shrine,  Wora'stir,  il„«,  ,/„„,. 
1907. 


I  I 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Thanksoivino  Dinner  Menu 
Invitation  to  Ye  Guild  of  Fvshebmen 
Bound  Mountain  Camp  Thanksoivino  Menu 


PAGE 
316 

408 
460 


CONTENTS. 

TOBQUATO  TaSSO      . 

Money  and  Banking 

The  Province  of  guEBEc  and  its  People' 

An  Hour  with  the  Puritans  and  Ph^qrims 

Keminiscent  and  Otherwise 

Very  Eev.  John  J.  Power,  D.D.,  V.G. 

A  Christmas  Reverie 

The  Horse  in  Science  and  Literature 

Trotting  Records  an  Important  Factor  Whe 

Breeding  for  Speed 
The  New  England  Farm  and  Farmer 

A  Source  op  Income 

How  Sabattis  Got  His  Christmas  Dinner 

Ferncliffe    . 

A  Pn.GRiMAGE  to  Our  Lady  op  Lourdes 

The  Printed  Word 

Pilgrimages 

Wheat  and  Cockle 

Riches  in  Poverty 


11 

33 

55 

89 

130 

157 

172 

179 

188 
192 
197 
201 
212 

227 

233 

240 

243 

247 


i  ^  I 


I    .     1 


CONTENTS  —  Continued. 

PAOE 

A  Truce  in  the  VV'arfabk  of  Luf.    .  252 

The  Oldest  Book  in  the  World                       .  257 
Moose  and  Moose  Hunting  Hints  for  Budding 

NiMKODH 264 

Paradoxes  and  Spoet     .....  274 

Massachusetts  in  A.D.  1900           ...  277 

Big  Game  Hunting 281 

Prospecting  fob  Woodcock  in  Massachusetts  289 

ZiG  Zag  Experiences  —  I.        .         .         .         .  298 

ZiG  Zag  Experiences  —  II 303 

ZiG  Zag  Experiences  —  III 307 

ZiG  Zag  Experiences  —  IV 311 

ZiG  Zag  Experiences  — V.       ....  314 

Thanksqivinq  IN  THE  Woods  ....  316 

The  Poetrv  of  Angling         ....  328 

An  Outing  Without  Rod  or  Gun    .         .         .  333 

The  Monarch  of  Buttermilk  Barren     .         .  340 

Negative  Soup 349 

Mv  First  Canvasback 356 

A  CooNLEss  Hunt 360 

A  Day  in  Massachusetts  Covers     .         .         .  364 

Thf.  Monarch  of  the  Pool     ....  372 

Our  Trip  to  Little  Jo  Mary         .                  .  376 

Reminiscent           ......  383 

A  Veracious  Narration            ....  391 

Books  in  Running  Brooks     ....  398 

Tongues  in  Trees 401 

Pickerel  Fishing  Through  the  Ice       ,  405 

Jacking  Deer 408 

A  Day  in  the  Old  Dominion    ....  414 

Only  A  Dog 418 

Veracious  Jim 424 

Wayside  Pictures 429 


III  1      i.       I 


CON-TKN'TS  -  CV«/;,n,r,/. 

•SpoHTsMA.vsiiii. —  149L'-18n2 

A  Hed  Letter  Day  „x  a  MlssAcmsETTs  T«.„t 
Brook 

Roses  and  Thorns 

Last  Nioht  in  Camp 

The  Camp  in  ti.k  Wilderness 
Things  Wise  a;,  ;>  Oth  ERwisE 

Huntinq  Bio  Game  in  Winter       '. 

Vacation  Pleasantries 

MoNoTONV  That  is  Not  Monotonous. 

Our  Summer's  Outing 

Eves  That  See  and  Ears  That  Hear 

From  Little  Much 

Woods  Pictures     ... 

A  Dav  with  Muskalonqe  in  Canada 

From  Nature  UP  TO  Nature's  God 


paoe 
4;j:i 

V.i-) 

440 

44(i 

4.J1 

45r) 

460 

46(i 

470 

472 

478 

480 

488 

492 

501 


